


Possession and Obsession

by Molly_Jae



Series: Roses and Revolutions [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Drama, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Psychological Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-06-28 03:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 38
Words: 107,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15699207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molly_Jae/pseuds/Molly_Jae
Summary: In a world where Katniss did not volunteer, Prim is thrust into the Hunger Games, wide-eyed and terrified. Things get messy when she is exposed to a possessive Cato, who seems to have taken an interest in her, and a scheming Haymitch and Effie, who thinks District 12 actually has a shot of winning.





	1. The Reaping

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s):  
> 1\. AU.  
> 2\. Prim was born a year earlier, so this makes her 13 in this fanfiction, while still keeping this within the first book's timeline.  
> 3\. I shall be sticking to the book's age references, where Cato and Peeta are 16.

**Act One**

* * *

Chapter One – The Reaping

* * *

" _Primrose Everdeen."_

The woman's voice – Effie Trinket, was it? – rang in Prim's ears as she froze in her spot.

Two in thousands and she had the worst luck in the District. She barely heard Effie encouraging her to come closer as she mechanically began to move. Her heartbeat was pounding in her chest and it's steady  _thump, thump_ , echoed in her ears. She absentmindedly tucked her duck-tail – as Katniss called it – and continued on walking.

"PRIM!"

Sky blue eyes squinted as Prim searched the crowd for her sister. She saw Katniss as she yelled her name for a second time, and Prim understood what she was trying to do as Katniss hurriedly made her way over to her.

"NO!" She exclaimed, even before Katniss could speak. She wouldn't let her do it. Katniss mattered. A lot of people depended on her – not just Prim and her mum. There were others too – the people she sold game to, those who admired her, and those who loved her. "I  _want_  to enter The Hunger Games." Her voice was cracked slightly as she said the second word, and she couldn't help but wince at the sound. Who would believe that?

It didn't register in her mind that Katniss had reached her until she was being shaken by the shoulders.

"Don't do this Prim." Katniss knelt before her. "I'll go in and I'll win and I-"

"NO!" Prim found herself contradicting once more. She roughly pried Katniss' hands off of her and began to head for the stage. Her hands shook as she grabbed the railing. One foot at a time and at a rather slow pace, Prim found herself on the stage and beside Effie Trinket, overlooking the entire population of District 12. In the distance, she could see that Gale had a sobbing Katniss in his arms, and Prim's blank gaze softened. This was the right thing to do.

"My, my, what an event District 12." Effie said, a cheeky smile on her face and a small lilt in her voice. "Now tell me, Primrose, who was that lady who wanted to volunteer for you?"

"That was K-Katniss," Prims answered shakily. "My sister."

"Well, well, don't want her to get the glory, do you?" Effie's joking tone was lost on everyone, and Prim couldn't help but pity the poor woman. Here she was, in all her Capitol glory, stuck in a place that probably seemed as horrid to her as she did to the people in it. Her encouragement of applause for Prim went through one ear and out the other as not a single sound was made.

Unbeknownst to Prim, she had always been a valuable part of the District – most especially to those who live in the Seam. Based on her looks alone, there was already more than a handful who saw her as their very own ball of sunshine – with her fair skin, kind blue eyes, and beautiful blonde hair. Then came her naturally kind attitude – she cared for anything and everything, and was the next best Healer that they've got after her mother.

She watched as they made a gesture that Prim was only vaguely familiar with, placing their left hand's three middle fingers to their lips and then holding it out to her. She remembered Katniss and her mother making the sign when her father died.

It meant gratitude…

admiration…

and farewell.

Prim's breath turned shallow as she watched almost each and every District 12 resident do the gesture. Tears began to leave her eyes, one drop at a time. She coached herself into breathing deeper and getting her tears to stop falling, and she succeeded enough so that Effie could go on and find out who she would be traveling to the Capitol with.

"Peeta Mellark."

The name – particularly the last name – sounded familiar to Prim, and her eyes scanned the crowd and found that it was the baker's son. She knew him from the times that Katniss had sent her out to meet with the baker, who would then slip her some freshly baked bread and whatnots when his wife wasn't looking. Prim always did like the baker. He was always so nice and only ever disregarded them when his wife was scolding him. In the times that she and the baker had spoken he would sometimes tell her stories about his three sons, and she idly recalled Peeta having older brothers, and she supposed that none of them would be volunteering for him – one was too old to do so, while the other simply wouldn't.

Her gaze followed Peeta's figure as he moved. Once he was on stage, Effie asked them to shake hands, while Haymitch stumbled over to them and slung an arm over each of their shoulders.

"Memorize these faces, people!" He shouted, and Prim can barely mask her distaste as the overpowering stench of alcohol invaded her senses. "This  _may_  just be the last time that you see them." And with that, he stumbled away, leaving a murmuring crowd in his wake and a frozen Peeta and Prim. She and Peeta eventually do shake hands, and it wasn't lost on her when their eyes met and both pairs - hers and his - shined with unshed tears.

Once the whole event was over and done with, Prim and Peeta were ushered into the Justice Building, a place neither had ever entered beforehand, though Prim had heard about it from Katniss after she received a medal after their father's death.

Prim paid no attention to anything other than the fact that this next hour, the time allotted for tributes to bid their goodbyes, would be the last time she ever saw Katniss again. Her eyes began to water once more at the thought, and she fell onto the velvet couch with a shaky exhale.

The moment that Katniss and her mother entered barely registered in Prim's mind as she was pulled into a hug by the two most important people in her life.

"Take care of Lady and Buttercup, okay?" Prim said, her voice muffled by the fabric of her mother's dress. She gasped as she was roughly taken by her elbows, Katniss' fingernails digging into her skin quite painfully. Her mother had stood up, leaning against a wooden table for support.

"No! Don't say that. You're going to make it." Katniss said adamantly. Who were they kidding? "You're going to win this, Prim. You're going to go out there, win the Capitol over and get lots and lots of sponsors." She hissed; and Prim froze, frightened by the intensity that shone in her older sister's eyes, but she couldn't bear to look away. "And you're going to get through this and you'll come back home – to us – to me!"

Prim suddenly felt older than she really was. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She gathered her wreck of a sister into her arms, and seeing as she was seated on the couch, Katniss found herself kneeling in front of Prim with her head resting on Prim's lap as the younger of the two ran her hands soothingly through Katniss' brown locks.

"Shh…" Prim murmured. "Alright, Katniss. I'll do everything I can and I'll win." She said, though her voice was cold and empty as she spoke, and the raw sob that left her mother made her look up. She held out her hand, and her mother took it without question. "Now, while you two are waiting for me, promise me you'll take good care of Buttercup and Lady. Buttercup likes Lady's milk and I tend to give her some at least once a week. I'm sure you know how to take care of yourself, but just in case, I keep some herbs – both medicinal and not – in the cupboard above the sink. It would be good to use for another month." She paused, inhaling deeply. "After that, you will have to go look for them, Katniss. Remember how I taught you which is which and the promising ones? I kept a notebook about some of the progress I've made."

And she continued on quickly, telling them where she hid her journal and what lay in it – the names of different plants and even some little animals and how they can be used to treat or heal someone.

And before long, the Peacekeepers were at the door and Katniss is being pulled out, their mother following closely behind her. Prim wanted nothing more than to cry out and follow them home, but she knew that it was no longer an option. She looked around the room she was in, and walked over to the window whose view was obscured by pale blue drapery.

She fingered one side and was just about to pull it when the door opened loudly, startling her.

In came the baker, and Prim was momentarily confused. Shouldn't he be with his son?

"Hello, Mr. Mellark." Prim's voice was polite with an edge to it because due to the dryness her throat now possessed. "Thank you for helping my family out." She said, and she was aware that he hasn't even said a single thing after having entered. "I hope you continue with it. We really do love the bread you make." She smiled at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and her breathing even, and he was left to wonder how someone so young could be so calm about everything.

"I brought these for you."

And then he handed her a white paper package. Taking it with a grateful smile, Prime peered in and found that there were cookies inside – freshly baked from what she could feel and smell. She wondered idly if he did this to every tribute – giving them baked goods he felt they would never have the luck of getting anymore.

Minutes ticked by, and Prim felt undeniably sick to her stomach. She couldn't think of anything other than the games, and she had no idea if she could even take a bite of any type of food, much less hold it down.

"I'll see to it that they're alright." He said, sending Prim a reassuring smile. And she understood what he was saying without him having to voice it out.

_Your death won't lead to theirs._

He was saying basically the same thing that the District's gesture earlier had stated.

_Thank you._

Only this time, Prim was resigned to her fate.

"That's all I could've asked of you," said she softly.

After that, he left and she was surprised when the next guest came in.

"I'm Madge Undersee." She said by means of an explanation as she came over and enveloped Prim in a hug. "I'm your sister's friend, and I wanted to give you something." She reached into her pocket and took out a small gold pin. "They let you wear one thing from your district in the arena; one thing to remind you of home." She held it out to the young girl with a tentative smile. "Will you wear this?"

Prim's fingers grazed the figure – a bird in flight – and she nodded mutely in affirmation. She hadn't even thought about such unimportant things. Did it matter what she wore to her death?

"Here, I'll put it on you." And she did so, securing the pin in place, just above where Prim's heart rests. Pulled into another hug, Prim breathed in and out calmly, focusing on keeping her breathing in check and making sure that she didn't stain Madge's beautiful dress. "Wear it into the arena, okay?" And though Prim could barely process what she was saying, the younger girl nodded and Madge placed a kiss to her forehead before leaving.

"Little duck," called Gale as he entered the room. His open arms made Prim smile, and she walked into them without a second thought, hugging him tightly and breathing in his scent. This was something she would never have again. Gale's warmth threatened to make her tears fall.

She understood that he and Katniss were nothing more than friends at the moment, but she also understood that it wouldn't be long before things changed between them. Prim could only hope that at least something good would come out of her being called as a tribute.

Her mind tried to take in all the information that Gale began to throw at her, and when he finished, her mind was far from the games.

"Name one of your kids after me." Prim said seriously, instead of responding properly to his advice. "Prim, or Rose, or even Primrose," she continued. "I want the two of you to end up happy, alright? So you better take care of her." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and her throat clogged up as her arms wrapped around his waist, and her tears began to fall once more.

"You know I will." Gale's cheeky smile almost made Prim laugh.

Almost being the keyword as a knock on the door signaled that time was up once more.

Prim met up with Peeta as they entered the same car on the way to the train station. She knew how everything went – having been forced to watch the games before – but to actually experience everything first hand was an unnerving perspective.

Making conversation was thrown out the window as Prim realized that Peeta was just as frazzled as she was. They were silent until they reached the station.

As they stood before the cameras, Prim absentmindedly tucked her ducktail in. And having always been sensitive to other's emotions, she carefully and impulsively sought out Peeta's hand. Upon getting hold of it, Peeta's head snapped to her, and she squeezed his much larger hand reassuringly, meeting his gaze shyly and sending him a smile.

They may end up killing each other, but there was nothing wrong with getting to know him while they were still alive.


	2. The Train Ride

Chapter Two – The Train Ride

* * *

**PRIM**

The moment the train doors closed behind them, it lurched forward at an unwarranted speed, catching both Prim and Peeta off guard, and because of her small stature, causing Prim to stumble slightly with Peeta there to catch her and keep her on her feet. She looked up at him and thanked him with a genuine smile.

The train was even fancier than the Justice Building, and Peeta and Prim were each given their own chamber, containing a bedroom, a dressing area, and a private bathroom with hot and cold water. Their drawers were filled with fine clothes, and Effie told them that they can do what they wished, wear anything, and that everything was basically at their disposal. She also reminded them to be ready for supper in an hour, and Prim had decided to use that time to shower.

She took off her dress, setting it on the floor carefully and neatly before stepping in and turning the water on. She sighed as the warm water pelted against her skin, and was surprised at how pleasant it felt, having never had a shower before. She supposed it felt like being in the rain, though not quite as freeing. Looking through the clothes at her disposal, she chose a pale yellow dress and did her hair in two braids, parting her hair down in the middle and placing each half into a French Braid, like her mother had done for the reaping.

She was just about to leave her room when she remembered the pin that Madge had given her. Finding that there was no harm in getting to the habit of wearing it, Prim unclasped the pin and studied it in her fingers.

It was a mockingjay, the crossbreed of a jabberjay and a mockingbird, something that was considered one of the Capitol's experimental failures. She wondered how Madge got a hold of something that was so…  _unique_ , but decided not to dwell on it too long as she pinned it to her dress, just above her heart.

She had rather fond memories of the creatures, remembering times when she, Katniss, and their father would go out to the meadow. She recalled times when her father would whistle a tune and sometimes even sing it, and the mockingjays would stop and really listen to him before singing back. Between her and her sister though, Katniss had the better voice, but Prim had been the one to continue the tradition of singing to the mockingjays.

Prim stepped out of her room just as Effie was about to call on her, and she followed the older woman to the dining room, where Peeta was already sitting.

As they sat to eat, with Effie taking the chair opposite Peeta and Prim sitting beside him, the conversation flowed and was based particularly on Haymitch's whereabouts. Peeta had mentioned seeing him earlier and Haymitch saying that he was going to take a nap, and Effie then commented about it having been a long day and then began to criticize the tributes from the previous year.

"The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a pair of savages. It completely upset my digestion."

Prim frowned behind her last bite of lamb. Her mother had taught her and Katniss to eat with a fork and a knife, and she understood that not everyone had that upbringing, but there was no reason to go about insulting or making fun of people because of it. The frown on her face didn't leave her for the rest of the meal, and had she looked at Peeta, she would have seen the same frown mirrored on his face.

When they finished, Prim and Peeta had trouble keeping their food down, but strived to do so even as they stood and left their current compartment to move to another to watch the reaping of the other districts.

Prim watched as the events progressed. She could see that despite having been reaped like the rest of them, the tributes of District One were obviously Careers. From District Two, a male volunteered, while a female was reaped. Everywhere else, people were reaped. But the one moment that really captured Prim's attention was that of District Eleven's. She watched with baited breath as a little girl that looked to be her age, or a year younger than her – at most – was drawn, and she couldn't help but cry for the little girl whom no one had volunteered for.

Peeta, seeing this, scooted closer to her and pulled her to his side, giving her the support she obviously and painfully needed. She gave the screen no mind as it showed the events at District 12, and just as the clip ended, the compartment door slid open to reveal an inebriated Haymitch. He stumbled in, mumbled a few incoherent words before vomiting and falling into his own mess.

Prim winced at the sight, but she stood before Haymitch could even utter another word. She and Peeta pulled him up, and she was glad that she had encountered patients in worse condition beforehand; else she would be vomiting too. Haymitch said something about tripping and Peeta took charge by telling Haymitch that they'll take him to his room.

They took him there and hauled him into the bathtub. After turning the shower on, Peeta turned to Prim, "I'll take it from here."

Prim paused in her unbuttoning of Haymitch's dress shirt. As sweet as it was that Peeta was offering to do things by himself, Prim shook her head with a small smile.

"I've got nothing to do and I've done this before." She said, continuing her task. "I don't mind getting dirty."

And so they went about cleaning their mentor.

She turned away when he was going to be relieved of his pants and undergarments though, and she wondered how someone can become so drunk that they had no idea what was going on around them.

When they finished, she cleaned the bathroom as Peeta went to deposit Haymitch on to the embroidered bedspread set up for him. Covered in an odd assortment of smells – vomit, bathing lotion, water, and even food – Peeta and Prim left Haymitch's room with a sigh.

"Thank you." Peeta said as they began to walk.

"You're welcome." Prim responded sweetly, a smile on her face that said she truly meant it. "You're the one that gave her the bread right?" She asked softly, causing Peeta to stop in his tracks. She hadn't realized that he stopped though, not until he spoke and she heard that his voice was farther than it had been.

"What?" He asked with a raised brow, confusion on his features and his eyes asking for answers.

"Katniss told me that one of the baker's sons gave her that loaf of bread a couple of years back." She explained, hands clasped together in front of her. "She didn't tell me which one, but I just pegged you as the nicest one." She smiled, gaze falling. "Can I know why you did it?"

Peeta's expression turned thoughtful, and his mind wandered back to the particular memory. He could still recall every detail as if it had just happened hours ago, and he looked at the girl before him. She was the complete opposite to her sister in every way, and Peeta understood that he might as well tell her something he, himself, had been keeping from everyone. What was the harm in befriending the one person he knew would be able to understand him in the new world they were about to embark on.

"I couldn't very well just leave your sister to starve, can I?" He asked, a goofy smile on his face as he attempted to lighten the mood, but the knowing look in Prim's eyes told him that she already knew the answer, and was just waiting for him to admit it out loud.

"It's not because you love her, then?" She asked cheekily, and once again, Peeta was struck by how opposite the Everdeen sisters were.

Where Katniss would probably have seen it as an act of kindness and nothing more, Prim had seen it for what it was – an act of kindness that hinted at something more. He loved Katniss Everdeen, and her younger sister had figured it all out. How sharp Prim must be underneath the innocent and naïve exterior.

"You're not the only one, you know." Prim said softly, eyes apologetic as she looked up to meet his gaze. He took a step forward, nodding. "Gale loves her too, and I'm sorry to say this, but I'm voting for Gale. As nice as you are, Peeta, Gale's the only one who can really handle my sister."

"I know." He said, and the defeat in his voice told Prim that he had known for a while now. "But that doesn't mean I can help what I feel." He said with a dry laugh. "Goodnight Prim."

"Goodnight, Peeta." She said with a nod, leaving to head to her bedroom.

Upon getting there, she slept as she was, too tired to do much more.

Waking up to a knock on the door and Effie's voice was not one of Prim's favorite moments, but she did as asked and stood from her bed. Looking down at herself and taking a whiff, she frowned at the odor and decided she would have another shower before heading to breakfast.

Dressing herself in an orange shirt and white skirt this time around, she fastened the pin on and braided her hair as she walked to the dining car.

Haymitch waved her over with a hand and a smile, saying in a rather clear voice, "Sit down! Sit down!" She slid into the seat by Peeta's side and her eyes widened as she was given an assortment of food. She looked around, and just like yesterday, she could see that all the food here would last her and her family a whole month already! Maybe even more if properly rationed. She looked at the different drinks; orange juice, coffee, and then something brown that she had never seen before.

"Hot chocolate," Peeta said by means of explanation. "It's good."

With just a sip, Prim was hooked. She drained the cup before giving the others any thought. And after doing so, she watched the others with interest. Everyone seemed to be minding their own business, and Prim took a roll of bread and broke it before putting a small piece into her mouth. There was no need to have a repeat of last night, after all.

She shyly watched Haymitch, wanting to ask him what he had to say, but too timid to actually do anything about it. She chewed, and Peeta spoke up, something Prim was grateful for.

"So, what do we do to win? What strategies or advice can you give us?" Peeta asked after having swallowed the last of his hot chocolate.

"Here's some advice;  _stay alive_." Haymitch declared, before bursting out laughing. Prim frowned. That would do nothing to help them out. She placed some bacon into her mouth this time, and watched as Peeta went on.

"Very funny," said he, before lashing out and knocking Haymitch's glass out of his hand. It fell to the floor, shattering instantly. Prim's eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped as she watched things unfold. "Only not to us," finished Peeta with a glare.

Before Prim could do anything about it, Haymitch had reached over and punched Peeta across the jaw, sending Peeta down. And in an act of pure recklessness and adrenaline, as Haymitch reached over for some liquor, Prim slammed her knife down on the table, effectively wounding Haymitch's wrist. Just from the look of it though, Prim could see that it was not deep, and would heal with ease even if left untreated, so long as it was washed.

"Well, what's this?" asked Haymitch, surprise clear on his face. "Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?"

Prim found herself blushing, unaware of whether to take his statement as a compliment or an insult. She stood to help Peeta stand when he shook his head, saying he was fine. Taking her napkin, Prim made an improvised ice pack quickly. She was about to place it against Peeta's jaw when Haymitch intervened.

"No, let the bruise show." He said, going on to explain how it would make Peeta look stronger and tougher. It would make the audience think that he had gotten into a brawl beforehand, and survived to tell the tale.

"Can you aim that knife and hit?" Haymitch asked, turning his attention to Prim. Flustered but wanting to prove herself to the man who had the power to help her live, she pulled the knife out of the wooden table. She took a deep breath in, and then hurled it across the room. She had hoped to get the knife to stick to the wooden board, but it instead sliced the thin rope that held the curtain together.

The rope fell apart causing the curtain to flow freely without its constraints.

It was a secret no one else knew.

Prim, whenever asked to gather plants, had been practicing to wield a weapon. She knew the basics of wielding a bow and arrow, but did not see it as her weapon of choice. She had opted to try out knives, and had the best opportunity to practice when her mother would send her out to gather herbs and berries. Some were peculiar and were found at the oddest of places and had to be gathered a certain way. One of which, grew only atop poisonous places. Her mother had taught her that throwing a knife and letting the herb fall to the floor before taking it would be the best way of avoiding the rash that came with coming into contact with the poison.

And so she had practiced. She strung vines and the like on one of the various trees that surrounded their house but was still within the district and practiced on that. And before she knew it, she could aim and hit with a slim chance of missing.

Haymitch asked them to stand, and he scrutinized them from head to toe, measuring them and sizing them up. "Well you're not entirely hopeless. Seems fit. And once the stylists get a hold of you, you'll be attractive enough." Peeta and Prim stayed silent as Haymitch continued, "Alright, I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you. But you have to do  _exactly_  as I say."

Prim nodded immediately, not keen on arguing, as Peeta gruffly said, "Fine."

"So, first things first." He said. "We'll be pulling up at the train station in a few minutes. You will then be put into the hands of your stylist. You won't like what happens then, but don't resist. They're there to make you look better than you are." He then took a bottle of liquor and left Peeta and Prim to themselves.

"I forgot something in my compartment." Prim said suddenly, standing and getting up to leave.

"I'll come with you," offered Peeta as he stood. She smiled and nodded, walking out and heading for her room. She looked around and found what she was looking for on the bedside table. She took it in her hands and turned to Peeta, who was waiting for her by the door, looking around the room. She chuckled at his innocent expression before walking on over to him.

"Would you like some?" She asked, opening the white paper package to reveal Peeta's father's cookies. "Your father was kind enough to give me some for the trip." She said with a smile, and Peeta's eyes watered at the thought of his father, something that did not go unnoticed by Prim.

"T-thank you." He said, taking one and biting into it as Prim chewed on her own.

They walked back to the dining car just as it pulled out of the tunnel and the train began to slow, bright lights flooding the compartment. Having just finished their cookies, they took a drink of orange juice, and after doing so, they headed on over to the windows excitedly.

Breaths taken away by the magnificence that was the Capitol, Prim and Peeta smiled and waved at the literally colorful crowd that would be watching them as they battled to the death.

* * *

**CATO**

Everyone had known that at least one tribute would volunteer for the upcoming Hunger Games. What everyone didn't expect, however, was for the volunteer to be a sixteen year-old. Cato had volunteered without anyone pressuring him. He had done it for reasons other than the fame and fortune, though he would beg to differ when asked.

They went through the motions, with Cato being visited by his cousin, who was his age and looked almost like him sans his cousin's dark hair. His parents entered next, and very confidential words were exchanged between them that floated in and out of Cato's mind as he had gotten on to the train with his fellow tribute, Clove.

They knew each other from the academy, and had spoken to the other beforehand, with the age difference between them being only a couple of months – nearly a year – everyone thought they made a cute couple  _and_  a formidable team. They had tried that path before and were glad to have ended it on good terms. As compatible as they were, they couldn't last long with someone that was too similar to them.

After all the trivialities and formalities had finished, Cato, Clove, Brutus, Enobaria, and Lyme settled into a compartment to watch the reaping. Only a few stood out in their minds, the District One and Four tributes in particular, along with the giant of a man from Eleven. When it came to Twelve, though, everyone snorted and found the event amusing, though Cato was enthralled by a whole different reason.

His hazel eyes took in everything about the girl – her blonde hair that was down in two braids, her bright blue eyes were shining with tears; both shed and unshed, her pale skin, small stature, soft curves, and her small lips. He frowned when she and the boy tribute shook hands, and he hadn't even realized he had growled until Clove shoved him playfully.

"Have a crush on the boy, huh?" She joked, though the accusation in her eyes showed that she had an idea of what was going through Cato's mind. They may have been over and her feelings may have been nothing more than platonic, but going after someone so young was just wrong!

"Ha," said Brutus with a smirk. "I don't think you'll be getting any of that, lover boy. You'd have a better chance at fucking the little girl." Clove gaped at the tall man's words, disgusted at the thought of him or anyone else touching someone so innocent and young. To have encouraged it just made her want to throw up.

"Men," said Enobaria with a roll of her eyes. "The girl's cute; I wouldn't blame Cato if he did think she was pretty. Besides, we all know that Cato's straight, and very much  _in_ to women." She added as an afterthought, "She kind of looks like an angel, don't you agree? All small and innocent with her blonde hair and blue eyes… she could be like that Johanna." She nodded, "Clever person, she was."

"Take her into the alliance." Lyme said, startling everyone in the room and ignoring Enobaria's words completely. Everyone's attention snapped to her, mouths open and closing like a fish. Cato raised a brow, eyes boring into the side of Lyme's face.

"And why would they do that?" Brutus snarled. "She'd be dead weight and slow them down, if anything." He stood up, and Cato followed his movements with his eyes. "Unless you think she  _is_  trying to pull a Johanna on us…?"

That made Cato's other brow rise. While he didn't believe in the girl trying to pull anything off, he did wonder why Lyme would want her on the alliance. His eyes darted from one occupant of the compartment to the other, following the conversation silently and taking everything in. He would speak if he could give something or make an input.

"Wait, I think I understand." Enobaria took the remote and pressed rewind, and everyone was grateful that they had the common sense to record the reaping. She paused upon reaching a particular frame – one where the two tributes from District 12 are shaking hands. She squinted at it, and everyone but Lyme did the same, wondering what the latter saw.

"A healer!" Clove then pointed out. She leaned forward, and Cato couldn't help but do the same. "Or at least someone that works with herbs…" She trailed off. "The colorings of her hands are different. When you work with herbs all the time, some of the toxins affect you and a different shade slowly covers whichever area is exposed to it the most. This could be stopped by an ointment, but it's obvious that they're poor, so she wouldn't have that resources."

"A great thing to have in the games," Cato remarked, a smirk on his face as he leaned back to rest more comfortably on the plush couch. He couldn't wait to meet the angel in person and see if she was as beautiful as the television made her out to be.

"Remember her name then." Brutus grunted, still annoyed. He saw no purpose in having a healer in a game where the objective was to kill. "And remember who told you to take her in… So you know who to blame when the time comes." He shook his head. "I can't believe you're doing this. This would be a big mistake. A huge –  _fucking_  – mistake."

"Primrose Everdeen." Lyme said, not paying any attention to Brutus' words at all, having grown accustomed to his rude ways. "District Twelve," She continued. "Fellow tribute is Peeta Mellark and has an older sister that wanted to volunteer for her. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and can't be any taller than five-foot-two. That's all we know for now. We'll probably see her statistics when we get to the Capitol."

"Don't do anything unnecessary, Cato." Clove hissed at her fellow tribute. " _I'll_  handle talking to her." She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and propping her feet up on the coffee table. "We all know you'll probably end up either scaring or angering her."

"Or having her scream his name," Enobaria joked with a wink, making Cato chuckle and Clove glare. Brutus only let out a low rumble from his throat that could have passed for either gas or a chuckle, while Lyme's face stayed blank.

Cato had a feeling the 74th Hunger Games would be unforgettable – in more ways than one.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three – The Chariots

* * *

**PRIM**

A tear slipped from Prim's eyes as Venia yanked another strip of fabric from her leg, tearing the hair beneath it. She apologized, and said something about the younger girl being hairy, to which Prim could only nod in understanding. She reminded herself that they were doing their job – like she and her mother were healers, Venia was one of the people tasked with making people look near-perfect and flawless.

When they finished, all that Prim could really hear were their coos and how brilliant they thought they were. She smiled politely up at them, which made them fawn over her even more.

"Thank you," said Prim with a smile despite being reminded of the stinging sensation she had felt earlier. She licked her dry lips before nibbling on them. "There isn't much reason to look this pretty back at home." She added with a small shrug and an innocent look.

It won them over completely, getting Prim giggle at their reactions. "Of course there isn't. You poor darling!" said Octavia, clapping her hands together.

"But don't you worry," said Venia. "By the time Cinna is done with you, you're going to be absolutely gorgeous!"

"We promise! You know, even before we did anything, you looked like an angel. But now that we've really gotten rid of all the hair and filth, you look so beautiful – so ethereal!" Flavius said encouragingly. "Let's call Cinna!"

They left the room and Prim was left alone to ponder things. Her hair was still the same as it was when they had left the train, in two French Braids. She inhaled and exhaled, fingering the ends of her braids idly, thankful that they hadn't messed with it. It was the only thing that really reminded her of home at the moment, and helped her keep her sanity in such a frightening position.

When a man entered the room, Prim's worried gaze slowly changed to that of confusion. He had brown close-cropped hair. He was dressed in a simple black shirt and pants, and the only thing that seemed to connect him to the Capitol was the metallic gold eyeliner that framed his eyes. Prim though that it made the gold in his eyes stand out, and that he looked rather handsome that way.

"Hello Primrose. I'm Cinna, your stylist," said he, catching Prim off guard when she realized that he didn't have the funny Capitol accent that her Prep Team had.

"Call me Prim," said she automatically. "Primrose is too long." She scrunched up her nose before smiling once more.

"Alright Prim, just give me a moment, all right?" Cinna asked, beginning to walk around her. She felt utterly exposed, seeing as she was naked before this man with nothing to cover herself with. "Who did your hair?"

"I did it while I was on the train." She replied.

"Wonderful. You parted your hair down the center and the locks of hair are the same in size." He smiled. "You've been practicing." Prim nodded in response, a blush creeping onto her cheeks at the compliment.

"Now, why don't you put on your robe and we'll have a chat." He said, handing Prim the silk garment.

Pulling it on, Prim followed Cinna into another room, relieved that they were finally out of the claustrophobia-inducing room. She watched with fascination as Cinna pushed a button and food emerged from beneath the tabletop. Surprised, Prim couldn't help but walk over to it.

"We must seem so lazy, don't we?" Cinna asked with a laugh, and Prim found herself relaxing at his laugh as she nodded, chuckling alongside him. He seemed so different and real compared to the others. She couldn't help but feel as if they were going to get along well. "Alright, so for your costume... My partner, Portia, is the stylist for your fellow tribute, Peeta. And our current idea is to dress you in complementary costumes." He said. "As you know, it's customary to reflect the flavor of the district."

Prim nodded, anticipating what they could possibly have in mind. Were they going to be naked? Wearing headlamps? Wearing coal miners' outfits? Be covered in coal?

"Tell me, Prim, are you afraid of fire?" Cinna asked, and his smile almost made Prim say no, until she interpreted what was on his mind.

"You're going to set me and Peeta on fire?" She asked with wide eyes, fear edging into her voice and entire being. This was not what she had in mind when her district was concerned!

"Not at all, dear Prim." He said soothingly, walking over to her and placing a warm hand on her shoulder. "Just your costumes - part of them, really." And then he went on to explain, "It isn't real flames, of course, just a little synthetic fire Portia and I came up with. You'll be perfectly safe."

Moments later, Prim stood in a long-sleeved black leotard-skirt ensemble. From the waist up, the costume fit her like a glove, but then it fluttered out into puffy black skirt that struck out at odd angles, reminding her of coal, which didn't ever seem to find a particular uniform shape. It reached until a couple of inches above her knees, and her shiny leather platform boots were laced up until below her knees, giving the illusion that she was actually taller than she really was. A cape was draped over her shoulders, and the headpiece that Cinna had placed on her completed the outfit.

"I want the audience to recognize you when you're in the arena." He said, twirling one of her braids thoughtfully, as he placed both of them in front so that it wouldn't fly everywhere, "Primrose,  _the angel of fire._ "

And Prim couldn't help but agree with him. Her blonde hair stood out against the dark colors, and so did her pale skin, which was accented by the very light make up that had been applied on her face. Her eyes looked bigger and more doe-eyed than ever, and she wondered if this was what being a doll felt like.

Peeta entered, wearing a similar-looking costume minus the skirt which was exchanged for pants. She found herself smiling at the thought of Peeta wearing a skirt. How her mind wandered! They were ushered into their chariot without another word, and Prim nervously conversed with Peeta as they waited for the ceremony to begin.

"W-what do you think of the fire?" Prim asked, a blush creeping on her cheeks when she stuttered. She was a nervous wreck about everything! Things had been much better back at the train, when she hadn't known that she would be set on fire. She tried to focus on that thought –  _that_   _feeling_  – she had when they were on the train, just talking and looking after Haymitch's drunk ass.

"I'll rip off your cape if you rip off mine." Peeta whispered conspicuously, making Prim giggle.

"Deal," said she, grinning all the while.

They relaxed quite a bit, talking amicably about anything that came to mind as if they had been friends for far longer than mere hours.

As if they weren't going to die in a couple of weeks –  _days_ , even.

And before they knew it, the music had begun and District One's tributes have been revealed to Panem. The chariot before them – District Eleven – was just about to make their entrance when Cinna arrived with a lit torch.

"Here we go," said he, lighting the capes first, before moving on to their headdresses. He smiled, "It works." He then caressed Prim's cheek softly. "Remember to smile, alright, Angel? Smile and wave – they're going to love you!"

With that said, he jumped off of the chariot, but had another idea. He shouted the instructions, but Prim did not understand him through the loud music. She turned to Peeta questioningly, hoping that he understood her stylist's orders.

"What did he say?" She asked, before gasping as she took Peeta's appearance in. His entire being was illuminated by the fake flames, and Prim couldn't help but think him handsome, especially with the way the flames were making his ocean blue eyes stand out. He slid his hand in Prim's much smaller one, and she was reminded of the time back at the train station in District 12, when she had reached for his hand and offered what comfort she could.

They looked to Cinna and raised their connected hands, and he gave them two thumbs up as confirmation that; indeed, it was what he had asked them to do.

With Peeta's hand as support, Prim found herself smiling, overwhelmed at the sheer number of people. She waved and laughed as they threw flowers their way. Peeta caught one – a rose – and offered it to her with a soft smile. She met his eyes and giggled, taking the rose and waving to the crowd once more. An idea formed in her head and she blew a kiss into the crowd, making them go crazier than they already were.

Peeta's eyes wandered to the huge screen that was linked to a camera which was trailed on them, and his smile widened as he noticed that they were a wonderful-looking pair. Their blonde hair shone against the flames, and their blue eyes changed their look completely. With his being considerably darker than hers, it gave him the dark and mysterious look should he have gone for it, while her bright orbs gave her an innocent but deadly flair. He kept on waving. District Twelve may just gain another victor.

When they came to a stop at the City Circle, Prim looked down at their still clasped hands and realized that her grip on him must have been unbearable. She carefully pulled her hand out of his and looked up at him apologetically as President Snow began his speech; she was surprised, however, when Peeta's grip only tightened.

"I don't think it would look too good if we let go now." Peeta whispered as he pulled Prim a little closer, which was seen by everyone watching through the huge screen. "I think they like our whole united front." He continued, moving their connected hands to rest on the edge of the front of the chariot, Peeta noticed how the camera not so subtly zoomed in on their joined hands. His eyes rested on Prim for a moment, watching as she seemed to actually pay attention to President Snow's words. He smiled down at her, before looking around when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

He looked up and was met with a cold glare from District Two's male tribute. He clenched his jaw, not wanting to show any emotion that may cost him and Prim the sponsors they needed. He understood what the look meant, having seen it on Gale's face a couple of times before, when Peeta would pass by Gale and Katniss together.

It was a predatory look, one that said that he was in their territory and that they wanted to get rid of him. Not wanting to alert Prim, Peeta kept his face neutral, and made sure that he didn't tighten his hold on her. An injured hand wouldn't do in the games, anyways.

He wondered what District Two's plan was though. They were looking at Prim as if she was theirs, and he didn't like it one bit. Prim was her own person – not the Capitol's, not District Twelve's, and certainly not District Two's. Prim was Prim's. No one else's.

When President Snow finished and the national anthem played, the chariots were made to circle one final time before leaving the City Circle, disappearing back into the Training Center. Prim and Peeta made sure to be amicable to the crowd once more, and they even raised their clasped hands – as far as Prim's arm could reach, at least – for the crowd, who absolutely loved it. The prep teams were quick to fawn over their tributes, and Prim blushed and thanked them for their praise, reminding them that hadn't they worked on her, she wouldn't have looked as wonderful as she did, while Peeta kept an eye on the other tributes. He could see that more than most of them were sending jealous glares at he and Prim, but he frowned upon seeing that the male from District Two had his eyes on Prim again.

Cinna and Portia took their capes and headdresses off, and Peeta hopped down the chariot and helped Prim down. Prim watched with fascination as Portia and Cinna extinguished the fake fire, and then she shivered.

"Can I borrow the cape for a while?" Prim asked shyly, and everyone cooed at how adorable she looked in spite of all the dark clothes.

"Of course, Angel." Cinna said, going over to her and draping the fabric over her shoulders. "Don't spill anything on it though, liquid stains are a pain to get rid of."

Prim nodded, prying her fingers off of Peeta and moving to tug the cape closer to her body when a gust of wind blew it off and away from her. She turned around and found that it had fallen to the floor some meters away, and she excused herself to go and get it, refusing Peeta's offer of help.

Contrary to other people's beliefs, she  _could_  do things on her own.

* * *

**CATO**

"Why don't you take a picture, Cato? It might just last longer." Clove said mockingly as they stood in their chariot. They paid no attention to President Snow's speech, and she rolled her eyes as she watched Cato glare. "Stop that," hissed Clove. "She's not yours and never will be. Not while Peeta Mellark has something to say about it, from what we're seeing." Her gaze landed on the petite girl in question who seemed to be listening attentively to President Snow.

"Don't be too sure about that." Cato smirked. "I get what I want, Clove. And I want  _her_. And not even  _that boy_ can do anything about it."

Clove sighed, exasperated at her fellow tribute's attitude. "She's  _thirteen_ , Cato." She said. "She's barely a teenager, let alone a potential lover. And look at their hands! Doesn't  _that_  say anything to you?"

"Who said anything about lover?" He shot back with a maniacal grin that would've disturbed Clove had she been unused to his ways. "She'll be my whore by tomorrow night, and I'll have her in nearly every way imaginable before the games even begin." He then chuckled, adding under his breath, "Maybe even a couple of times  _during_ the games." He rolled his eyes, "As if I couldn't already see that. And yes, it says that taking my Rose would be much more fun and satisfying than I originally planned."

Clove sighed in defeat, knowing there was nothing she could do now other than watch out for Primrose Everdeen. Once Cato had set his mind and eyes on something, it would be nearly impossible to get him off of it. She looked down at their gladiator costumes and let out a grunt of disapproval. She knew they looked good, but the thing was,  _Twelve looked better_. She eyed their costumes, and found that their hands were now resting atop the chariot and Cato had let out another growl of disapproval. Was she with a man or an animal?

Upon returning to the Training Center, she and Cato were quick to get off of their chariot. Their own prep team encircled them, with their stylists Garrick and Celia in tow, all of whom were speaking obscenities and voicing their distaste of Twelve's costumes and stylists. Clove rolled her eyes, knowing they were just jealous. Everyone was, she noted as she glanced around the room.

She eyed District Twelve's tributes from afar and was surprised when the boy was actually looking in their direction. She followed his gaze, and saw that he and Cato were having some variation of a staring contest. She closed her eyes, annoyed at the caveman-like show.

"Before long, you two will be grunting and swinging clubs at each other over her." Clove said, taking off her headdress and handing it to Celia. Her dark hair fell in soft waves, and she ran her hand through it to get rid of some of the knots.

She turned to head to the elevators that would take them to their rooms, and waved with a hand, "Come on, Cato! Lyme and the others wanted to have a talk with us for tomo-" Turning around to look for her partner, she blinked owlishly at him as he bent down to pick up some black cloth. " _Row_." The last syllable left her mouth without much thought, and she began to walk back over to him, stopping to stand just a few feet behind Cato as she saw who had approached.

Cato looked down at the familiar cloth that was now covering his foot. He looked around for its owner and smirked upon finding his Rose moving towards him. He bent forward, taking the cloth with one hand. He fiddled with the cloth between his fingers as she came closer.

"Sorry," said Prim as she reached the tall boy. She took in his costume and couldn't help but blush upon finding him handsome – with his blonde hair and hazel eyes; they complemented his tan skin and made him look like a fearless gladiator. In an instant she recognized him as one of the Careers. "It was blown by the wind."

Cato handed the cape to her without a word, his eyes simply drinking her in. His gaze slowly moved over her form – from her head to her toes – and he knew that the television hadn't been lying. She was beautiful. His eyes darkened at the show of creamy white legs. She looked away, unable to take his piercing gaze. Feeling awkward and out of place, Prim thanked him for handing her the cape and was just about to leave when he spoke up.

"Rose, right?"

"Prim, actually," said she mechanically. There had been some who wished to call her Rose before, but she hadn't found any reason to accept the nickname since she already had one, add to that that her father had only ever called her Prim, then she knew she never wanted to lose the name. It was one of the few things she had of him left. She draped the cape over her shoulders once more, pulling it closer to her body.

"I like Rose better." Cato said, and Prim found that there really was no use arguing with him. She would be dying in a few days' time, anyways. What's the use of keeping her nickname? Besides, she couldn't – wouldn't – argue with someone that could well over be twice her size and could probably snap her neck as if she were some twig.

Against her better judgement though, Prim found herself saying, "I like Prim best." Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, and suddenly she felt vulnerable and exposed in front of the tall and intimidating man before her.

"Join us for training." He eyed the cape with distaste, seeing it as an obstacle to the thing he wanted –  _her_. He completely ignored her words as he took a step towards her.

"I-I'm sorry, what?" She asked, unsure if she had heard him properly. Was she being asked by a  _Career_  to join them? "I'll have to ask Haym-mitch." She said, after having him repeat his words. She sucked on her lower lip nervously, and Cato couldn't help but clench his fists as his gaze locked on her lips. He needed patience and timing. It wouldn't do to frighten her right there, no matter how bad he wanted to take her. "May I bring Peeta along?" She asked, and Cato frowned. That other kid was not part of his plans.

"Prim!"

Turning her head, Prim found Peeta waving as he walked on over to her, a kind smile on his face. She returned his smile and wave before she turned back to Cato in time to find Clove had come and stood beside him.

"Peeta!" She exclaimed, taking the hand he had offered her with a smile. "Peeta, this is um…" She trailed off, flushing as she realized she had been having a conversation whose name she didn't even know! She remembered him from the reaping well enough, but she couldn't put a name to the handsome face – and body. The thought alone made her blush a darker shade of red.

"Cato," filled Clove in with a pleasant smile. She didn't like the glares that the two knuckleheads were exchanging, at all. "And I'm Clove…" she paused, unsure whether or not to offer a hand. Deciding to offer one to Prim, she continued, "From District 2."

Peeta nodded, and Prim smiled, shaking Clove's hand. "Prim, and this is Peeta." She gestured to her partner with her free hand, squealing a bit when he tugged her closer and unclasped their hands only to place his now free arm around her. She didn't mind though, grateful for the heat that Peeta radiated. She easily felt the cold because of her small and thin stature - something she should be working on before the games.

"Effie asked us to head to our floor now." Peeta told her. "Cinna and Portia also said something about rest being important and all that." He chuckled, his gaze and seventy-five percent of his attention settled on Prim alone.

Nodding, Prim looked up at Cato and then at Clove, before settling her bright blue eyes on Cato's hazel orbs. "Thank you for the offer." She said. "I'll be sure to tell you the answer tomorrow."

Cato only nodded in response as he tore his eyes away from her to fix another glare on the other boy.

Peeta nodded and he and Prim left the District Two tributes to themselves as they began their walk back to their rooms. With his arm still securely around Prim, Peeta bent down and whispered, "You do know you look beautiful, right?" He grinned when Prim blushed and laughed, before turning to him with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Thank you." She replied, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek – right on his makeup-covered bruise. "You look good too. Is the bruise healing properly?"

They talked as they made their way to the twelfth floor, where Haymitch and Effie were already waiting to congratulate them on a successful and beautiful entrance.

Cato growled once more as he saw his Rose willingly press her lips to Twelve's cheek, causing Clove to roll her eyes and tug at his arm roughly.

"Let it go,  _Lover Boy_. You knew that they had something just by the way they presented themselves earlier." She grumbled, dragging him over to another set of elevators. "Why do  _I_  have to deal with the huge caveman?" She mumbled under her breath, exasperated. She couldn't understand when it became her job to look out for his ass.

"Mark my words, Clove." Cato said, moving to keep up with Clove – an easy feat considering his long strides and their height difference. "Come midnight, I would've gotten at least a kiss or a feel."


	4. The Rooftop

Chapter Four – The Rooftop

* * *

**PRIM**

Apart from the elevator back at the Justice Building, Prim had never ridden an elevator before, and so watched in fascination as the crystal elevator zoomed up with her and her party in it as the people on the ground floor shrunk to the size of ants. She wondered if Effie would let her ride it again later on, or at least let her press the button. She would squeeze as much happy and fun memories out of the experience as possible. She was going into an arena to fight for her life in a couple of days – she might as well have fun while working her way there.

As they were corralled into their level, Effie droned on and on about getting sponsors and sang praises about Prim and Peeta's entrance. She continued on, giving the pair a tour of the level before leaving them to explore by themselves.

"How about we shower and then look around?" Peeta suggested with a boyish smile that Prim knew would surely attract a lot of girls when the interviews came around. She found herself smiling and nodding in agreement with him.

They did as agreed and Prim let her hair flow down to her waist this time, as opposed to braiding it once more. When she entered the living area, she found Peeta, Cinna, and Portia at the balcony, talking.

"Angel!" Cinna greeted as she approached, and Prim couldn't help but return his infectious smile. "I do hope you don't mind us calling you that. I've sort of rubbed off on Portia with calling you Angel." He said sheepishly, making Prim laugh.

"It's alright."

"Well that  _is_  what you are." Portia said from her place leaning against the rails. "Panem's Fire Angel," said she. "That's what they're calling you now. It's all over Panem, not just the Capitol." She sipped on her spirit-filled glass, smiling at Prim thoughtfully. "You look beautiful with your hair down, Angel."

"Thanks." Prim said sweetly, walking over to them, her hair swishing in the wind along with the hem of her blue dress.

"Would you two like to see the rooftop?" Cinna asked, sneaking a look upwards. "The view up there is magnificent, and the silence too."

"That'd be cool." Peeta said, meeting Prim's gaze, who was excited at the prospect of going somewhere new.

They took the stairs going up, and Prim's smile widened as the cool breeze blew. When its strength increased though, she found herself stumbling slightly, bumping into a surprised Portia who helped steady her with only one hand, seeing as the other still held a glass half full.

"Aren't they afraid that people might jump?" Peeta asked, going over to the railings.

"Try reaching out, as far as you can." Portia said, and from her place by the stylist's side, Prim watched as Peeta did so, eyes widening when he seemed to have been zapped and he took a step back.

"There's an electrical shield that would shock anyone back to the roof," explained Cinna.

And they stayed there for a while. After a good half an hour, Cinna and Portia left, saying they had to discuss certain things about their interview and training clothes, and Prim and Peeta were left alone at the rooftop, sitting on the floor with their back against the railings.

"What were you and Cato talking about earlier?" Peeta asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them. He turned to Prim with a raised brow, inquisitive and anxious at the same time.

"Oh," said Prim. "He asked if I'd like to join them with training." Her eyes didn't rise to meet his, and she supposed that there probably was tension between Peeta and Cato. Boys always seemed to fight more often than girls did.

"And…?"

"I said I'd have to ask Haymitch first." She replied softly. "And then I asked if you could join us, but he wasn't given the chance to answer, since that was about the time that you came."

"He wouldn't have agreed." Peeta declared, gaze snapping forward. "For some reason, he wants you in with the Careers, Prim." His look hardened, and his mind barely registered Prim's light touch on his arm.

"I wouldn't agree unless you were there with me." She said adamantly, smiling up at him. Sitting in the lotus position as opposed to Peeta's knee-to-chest stance, she laid her head on his shoulder cautiously. "Aside from Haymitch, we're really all we have left, Peeta." She mumbled, and they are both stunned at the depth and truth in her words.

"I'd want to leave this place if I could." Peeta said suddenly. "As much as I love the food, I'd rather not have to kill to survive. It makes me feel as if I'm no better than an animal – some insignificant beast they could just capture and chuck into an arena to fight with other animals." He paused, burying his face in the palm of his hands. "It's barbaric."

Prim frowned, not quite sure how to proceed. She placed her arm around his shoulders, which was difficult considering his broad shoulders and her short arm, before deciding that rubbing circles on his back would be the best way to go. With her other hand, she squeezed his upper arm reassuringly, her thumb going in an up and down motion.

"At least they'll be teaching us  _some_  things before we're sent to the slaughter house, right?" She said in an attempt to brighten the mood. She offered him a small smile as he turned his head to look at her, and they couldn't help but laugh.

They laughed at nothing in particular and everything at the same time. Their predicaments, their lives, their very sanity – all were so unbalanced one way or another, and with the games approaching, there was nothing else to lose apart from their life and sanity, really.

When dinner finished and everyone retired to their rooms, Prim found that she couldn't sleep. And so with a cautious air, she snuck out of her room and climbed the stairs. She stood on the rooftop and yawned, stretching as she did so.

She looked down at her clothes, her feet were left uncovered, a pair of silk shorts that barely reached mid-thigh, and a tank top that did nothing to lift her breasts, since she had opted not to wear a bra. She licked her lips as she walked towards the railing, wanting to look out at the view. She leaned over, crossing her arms over the railings and watching the beautiful night life that the Capitol had.

Her thoughts wandered over to her family back at the Seam, and she couldn't help but wonder if Katniss had fed Buttercup and her mother had milked Lady for the day. Tears gathered in her eyes as she realized that not two days ago she would have been tucked in bed around this time, with her mother and Katniss kissing her forehead. She sighed at the thought, a few tears escaping her.

"Can't sleep, Rose?"

The vaguely familiar voice startled Prim, and her hands slid and her fingers grazed the electrical barrier that Peeta had come across earlier. Wincing at the shock, Prim lifted her finger to her lips and sucked on the skin to relieve herself of the stinging sensation.

She turned around, head snapping from side to side to look for the voice's owner. Her eyes widened when Cato came into view, his body illuminated by the moonlight. She blushed as she realized that he was half naked – with his upper half exposed and only a pair of pants as the article of clothing she could see on him.

Prim pulled her finger out of her mouth and letting her hand drop to her side as she asked, "What about you?" Cato's eyes darkened with lust at the display, and his eyes raked over her barely covered form, his appreciation beginning to show against his semi-loose pants.

"Not really." He replied with a shrug, taking a couple of steps closer to her. Oh how he wanted to just grab her. "I just had to get away from Clove. She can be a pain in the ass." He stood in front of her for a moment, eyes unreadable, before he went to look out at the view of the Capitol. Following his lead, Prim stood beside him, their bare arms almost touching.

"Aren't you cold?" She asked shyly, eyes trailed on the ant-like people walking the streets in their colorful clothes.

"No." Cato replied. "This is how I've always slept." He shrugged. "Have you thought about my offer?"

"I-I'm sorry." Prim said. "I wasn't able to ask Haymitch earlier. He was rather busy…"  _vomiting in the bathroom_ , she added in her head. "I promise to give you an answer tomorrow though."

"He can't come with you." Prim turned to Cato, cocking her head to the side in confusion. "That other tribute… Peeta. The invitation was only for you. Not him or anyone else." Surprised and confused at Cato's obvious distaste for Peeta, Prim couldn't help but be worried for her friend. Her conversation with the aforementioned person earlier flashed before her mind's eyes. It turned out the Peeta was right.

"Then I'm going to have to decline." She replied nervously. Something about Cato unnerved her, and she supposed that his being a Career and considerably taller and more muscled than her may have something to do with it. "He and I are a package deal – I guess you could say."

Cato's eyes narrowed, eyes still fixed on the view of the Capitol below. His jaw clenched the same time his fists did, and he was left to ponder just what was going on between the two tributes from District Twelve.

"What  _are_  you two?" He asked bluntly. "Is he your brother? Cousin? Distant relative?"

And despite the fear she felt, Prim found herself giggling. Perhaps her sanity was slipping already. "Peeta? My brother? I don't think so. He's not my cousin or any other type of relative either." She looked back out, seeing the City Circle in the distance. "Why do you ask?"

"Similar features." He muttered. "The blonde hair, the blue eyes, the pale skin – hard not to think so," said he, angered by her answer. It only confirmed what he already knew though – there was a huge possibility for Twelve to make a move on his Rose. The thought alone made him want to kill Twelve… or at least maim or seriously injure.

"Well we both have blonde hair too." Prim pointed out. "Are you suggesting maybe we're related?" She joked, trying to make light of her current position. She knew that if she let him get to her, he would use that to his advantage, and she couldn't have that – at least, not while the games have yet to start!

"No," Cato chuckled, just as Prim shivered. His smile slowly transformed into a smirk as he stepped closer to her, mere inches separating them. He threw one arm around her shoulder and let his hands rest on the railing, trapping her between him and the metal bars. His eyes flashed as he found that she was a good foot shorter than him. He bent forward, so that his mouth was level with her ear.

"You cold, Rose?" He whispered, aware that his voice had dropped and was now lower than it had been just seconds earlier. Prim blushed at the close proximity, her eyes darting from side to side as she looked for an escape route. But since he had leaned forward, his arms were now just above her waist, and so she knew she would have a hard time escaping him.

Not waiting for her answer, Cato slid his arms underneath hers and around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He smiled at the little squeal-gasp combination that she let out, and he felt smug as she did nothing to get away.

They stood like that for a couple of seconds, and Cato couldn't help but have a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach as he felt his Rose slowly relax and lean into him. In the back of his mind, he understood that she was leaning closer to him for warmth, nothing more, but the more possessive side of him convinced him otherwise.

Taking a deep breath in, he savored her scent as it invaded his senses. Roses and strawberries. His grip on her tightened slightly, and it was enough to make Prim turn to him.

"Thank you," whispered Prim as she met his gaze. She smiled at him – pure and innocent – and he found that he couldn't resist. He leaned closer and caught her lips with his. His eyes remained open – as did hers – and he watched as different emotions flashed through her eyes.

Surprise.

Anxiety.

Fear.

Prim's eyes were wide as can be, as she felt Cato's lips move over hers, and she carefully placed her hands on either of his shoulder, feeling even more flustered as she remembered that he wasn't wearing a top. His muscles tensed under her touch, and she shivered as she pushed him off.

At first, she thought he wouldn't budge because of his obvious strength over her, but when he stumbled back, she was relieved. She straightened herself up, aware that she was flushed and shaking now. She subconsciously licked her lips and blinked in surprise when she realized there was a foreign taste on her lips.

Cato, upon being pushed away, quickly regained his balance and stood in attention. He didn't want to frighten her anymore than he already had – that would compromise her want to join the alliance. His mind raced with emotions he understood he was supposed to feel, but nothing apart from anger and rejection raced through his veins. Was she taken? Had Twelve taken her before he had? His thoughts clouded with possibilities, and he fought hard to keep himself in check. The only thing that kept him from lashing out at her was the way she licked her lips. Upon seeing her eyes darken, even if she was unaware of it, Cato's smug smirk returned.

"Try to think about our offer again." He said, turning his back to her. "I'll see you tomorrow,  _my Rose_." He then began to walk away, leaving a flabbergasted Prim on the roof.

She stared at where Cato last stood, before another wind blew. Deciding that she should now return to bed, Prim headed back to her floor only to come face to face with Haymitch.

"And you're awake because…?" Her mentor asked, raising a brow at Prim's wrinkled clothes and rosy cheeks. Before she could respond though, he waved her over and they settled on the living area couch. "Let me guess," began Haymitch. "You either can't sleep or you had nightmares."

"I couldn't sleep," admitted Prim with a yawn. "I went to the roof for some air, and I guess I'm sleepy now."

"It wouldn't do to hold back any information from me, sweetheart." Haymitch said, eyes piercing through Prim. "Tell me something I don't know."

"C-cato offered to have me train with them – the C-careers." She mumbled. It seemed as if a blush would be permanent on her face as she faltered slightly under her mentor's scrutiny. "And I said that I wouldn't go if Peeta wasn't allowed. And then…" she trailed off, not sure whether or not she wanted to recount what Cato had done just before he left her.

"Tell them you'll train with them on the second day of training." Haymitch said after clearing the surprise that had covered his face. "I have other plans for tomorrow. Any other instructions I'll tell during breakfast." He paused, raising a brow at her. "And then what?"

"He kissed me." She mumbled weakly, causing Haymitch's eyes to widen, his eyebrows to rise, and for him to blink rapidly. That was definitely new news to his ears.

"Did he force you to do anything else? Anything more…?" He asked, concerned for the little girl before him. What was District Two up to? He frowned. If this was their way of establishing an alliance, Haymitch wasn't having any of it – unless he found something that would give his tributes the boost they needed.

When Prim shook her head, relief flowed out of him.

"Try to avoid any interaction with him tomorrow – other than to tell him your answer – all right?" Haymitch said. "Now, go to sleep. You'll be busy tomorrow."

And Prim did just as her mentor said, leaving him alone in the living area.

Breakfast came and Haymitch sat at the head of the table with Effie to his right, Peeta to his left, and Prim on Peeta's other side. Portia and Cinna situated themselves beside Effie, with Cinna sitting across Prim. They ate with an amicable air and mindless conversation droned on, it was only when Haymitch was finished that things turned quite sober.

"So let's get down to business. Training. First off, if you like, I'll coach you separately. Decide now." He said, and Peeta and Prim turn to each other thoughtfully. There was no resentment between them, and they already had a feeling that they were going to be working together no matter what, so being coached separately would be a little odd.

"I think together would be fine." Peeta said, with Prim nodding in agreement as she chewed on a slice of potato.

"Now, give me ideas of what you can do." Haymitch commanded, eyes darting from one tribute to the other.

"I can't do anything," said Peeta. "Unless you count baking bread."

And before Haymitch could speak, Prim had spoken, "That's not true!" She swallowed her food, a light blush on her cheeks at her momentary lack of decorum. "You can lift a hundred-pound bag of flour. I've seen you in the market!" She paused, thoughtfully adding, "Maybe that can translate into wrestling, or something." With a laugh, she continued, "Some of the other tributes probably weigh around a hundred pounds, anyways."

The laughter that resonated among the occupants of the table was short-lived, and Haymitch turned his attention to Prim.

"And what about you, Angel?" He asked. "Aside from killing tables, scarring my wrist, and undoing the ties of curtains, what else can you do?"

"I know a lot about herbs and healing." She said honestly, turning a darker shade of scarlet under the calculating gazes of the people around her. "And Gale taught me how to set traps and snares one time, after Katniss taught me how to use a bow and arrow." She didn't know how those things would mean much, but she decided that withholding information from their mentor was not a good idea – especially after last night.

"All right," said Haymitch. "Now, here's the plan. Stay beside each other the entire time. Go to group training and learn everything you can. Prim, you test what you know with herbs, knives, and bows and arrows, but only do it for one day each, Peeta, you do the same with the weights and wrestling. Other than that, stay in the other stations and act as if you two are the best of friends." He paused. "And when I say the entire time, I mean every minute!"

Peeta and Prim only nodded their heads, not really minding the other's company.

"And Prim," said Haymitch. "Remember what we talked about."

* * *

**CATO**

"And  _where_  have you been?" Clove asked impatiently, arms crossed over her nightgown-clad chest.

"I was at the rooftop – I said that already." Cato pointed out with a roll of his eyes. "You're not my nanny, Clove. There's no need to look after me like some child." He spat with an irritated growl.

"That may be the case, but with the way you're acting, you might as well be a child! Getting annoyed and wanting to harm a boy over  _some_  girl. I thought you were over that, Cato!" Clove had begun to pace, and Cato was getting more ticked off by the minute.

"I  _am_  over it." He said through gritted teeth. "But it doesn't mean she won't be mine."

"Will you stop it?" Clove said, stomping over to him. "She's an innocent girl that I'm sure wouldn't want anything to do with you. And from how you're looking, you either found an Avox to fuck or you got somewhere with Prim." She paused suddenly, looking at Cato in disbelief. "Wait. Did you actually fuck Prim?  _Tonight?_ "

Cato snapped, taking Clove by the neck with his right hand and lifting her up. He watched as the color drained from her face as she struggled to pry his strong hands off. She was a good foot off of the ground, and her eyes held his evenly.

"I never asked you to look after me as if I were some kid." He snarled. "And what happens between me and  _my_ Rose is mine to mind. All you have to know is that she wouldn't join the alliance if Twelve isn't in it." Realizing that his grip was a little too tight and that her lips were beginning to turn an unbecoming shade of blue, Cato dropped her, letting her fall to the ground, gasping for air.

"What?" Enobaria spat, having heard the last part of their conversation as she left the kitchen. "This won't do! If she forms an alliance with another set of tributes, then she would possibly heal what you destroy." She was about to leave to call Brutus when she caught sight of the still out of breath Clove on the pristine floor. "Cato! What did you think you were doing to Clove?"

"I was talking to her – telling her that she needed to  _mind her own fucking business_." Cato hissed, turning to the direction of his room. "I'm going to bed. I don't want to deal with this any longer than I have to." 


	5. Training (Day 1; Part 1)

Chapter Five – Training (Day 1; Part 1)

* * *

**PRIM**

Dressed in matching training outfits, Prim giggled as she and Peeta stared at their reflection in the bathroom mirror. Red, gray, and black seemed to be Cinna and Portia's theme as they were dressed in a training suit of the aforementioned colors. Her hair was in two braids once more, and she found herself subconsciously fiddling with the ends of it.

"I guess we'll always be a package." Peeta said cheekily, making Prim laugh as she nodded in agreement. They looked at the clock, and saw that it was nearly ten – fifteen minutes left, to be exact. He slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side. "What was that all about?" He asked. "Haymitch's words to you... What did you two talk about?"

Prim watched the curiosity in Peeta's eyes, caution shining in her own blue eyes. What would she tell him? Everything? Just a little bit? Nothing at all? She nibbled on her lower lip anxiously.

"You don't have to tell me, of course." He said, loosening his grip on her and looking away. "I was just curious."

"Cato kissed me." Prim blurted out, her cheeks coloring red as she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. It was her first kiss, and someone whose goal was going to be to kill her had taken it!

"What?" Peeta hissed, eyes narrowing and jaw clenching. "When?"

"L-last night," said Prim, eyes widening and taking a step away from Peeta. "I-it's fine P-peeta. I – nothing… Nothing else happened." She said reassuringly, watching him carefully.

"I'm going to kill him." He declared angrily, turning to head to the elevator. Prim blinked a couple of times, confused at his reaction, before she went out to follow him. She chalked it up to boys being boys, and decided that she would ask again once he was calmed down.

They went to the training rooms together, and though the ride took less than a minute, Prim couldn't help but feel as if it were hours. The silence between them was tense, and Prim was afraid they wouldn't be able to keep up with Haymitch's orders of looking and acting like friends. And for a moment, Prim faltered.

Had they not been friends before? Perhaps she had been too trusting, but she had seen no reason not to befriend the one person she felt could truly understand what she was going through. They had been taken from their families, was forced to bid goodbye to the people they loved, and now had to rely on a mentor that was drunk for more than most of his life.

_And we both love Katniss_ , added Prim in her head with a giggle, which made Peeta turn to her with a raised brow.

She just watched him, unsure of what to do. Should she apologize for giggling? She brushed the thought away though. They stood there, staring it each other, unaware that the other tributes had taken to watching them.

Peeta was the first to break the tension.

He cracked a smile and walked on over to Prim, seeing as he had been a couple of steps ahead of her. He bent down and pulled her into his arms in a firm yet gentle hug. Though shocked at first, Prim smiled and relaxed, returning the hug.

"I'm sorry if I scared you earlier." He murmured softly. "I just don't like the thought of  _those kinds of people_ associating with you." She nodded against his shoulder, mumbling that she understood now. She kissed his forehead, like she remembered Katniss doing to her whenever she was forgiven for any wrong she did.

They then joined the other tributes, whose gazes on them varied from hatred, anger, jealousy, confusion, and curiosity. And even as someone pinned their district number on the back of their training outfits, Prim and Peeta stood closely, not once straying farther than three feet from each other. When they were given free reign, Prim and Peeta turned to each other for guidance.

"Where would you like to start?" Prim asked unsurely, surveying the room. They had agreed to try out some of their strengths after lunch, and focus on learning something new beforehand.

"Tying knots look good." Peeta said with a shrug, to which Prim agreed and they headed off to the station. After getting the hang of ropes and snares, they moved onto camouflage, where Peeta showed his talent and Prim found herself having fun as they mixed various objects together to create a mix of different colors.

"How're you so good at this?" Prim asked, in awe of his work. She then found Peeta explaining to her that he frosted most of the cakes in the bakery. Prim smiled at the memories that came with his explanation – how she would pull Katniss to the bakery just to  _see_  the beautiful cakes on display.

Before long, lunch came around and the tributes were ushered into a dining room located off to the side of the training room. They were asked to sit in pre-assigned seats, and Prim could only sigh in relief when she found herself sitting beside Peeta. What made her nervous though, was that she would be sitting in front of District One's male tribute.

She paused in her steps as she remembered Haymitch's words from last night.

" _Tell them you'll train with them on the second day of training."_

Looking around, Prim found Cato heading over to the dining room, accompanied by the other Careers. Doubtful, she turned from Peeta to the Careers, and found her eyes widening at seeing Cato's gaze on her. Stumbling backwards at the intensity of his gaze, Prim knew she would've fallen had Peeta not been standing behind her. His hands on her shoulders balanced her out, and she looked up at him in gratitude. She found, however, that his eyes were elsewhere.

His gaze was stony and his glare sent shivers down her spine. Not wanting for a commotion, however, she turned around and smiled kindly at Peeta.

"I'll follow you in a bit, Haymitch asked me to do something about Cato's offer." Prim explained reassuringly.

"If you say so," Peeta said half-heartedly, before shooting Cato one last dirty look and then entering the dining room.

* * *

**CATO**

Cato, standing by Clove, Marvel, Glimmer, Vox, and Pan, watched as District Twelve's Tributes stepped out of the elevator. He smirked upon seeing his Rose, but grimaced when he saw them hug. No one should get to touch what was his! He let out an annoyed sigh, turning to face the other members of the alliance.

"Something we should know about?" Glimmer asked, raising a blonde brow, her emerald eyes piercing Cato's hazel orbs. Pan, a tribute from District Four who had joined the alliance with her district partner Vox, let her eyes wander around the group trying to gauge all the different tribute's strengths and weaknesses. Of course, it wasn't that big of a surprise when she saw that the girl from twelve was one of the smallest ones there.

"Well, you know how she would be a good addition to the alliance – being a healer and all?" Clove said with a nod in Prim's direction. Glimmer nodded and Vox' and Marvel's eyes traveled to the pair as they listened to their acquaintances converse. "As it turns out, Cato also wants her – to fuck her, mostly – and now he and Twelve are in some kind of caveman war over Primrose." Clove rolled her eyes, and Glimmer laughed, gaining Pan's attention.

"Wow, nice taste though." Glimmer chuckled. "She's cute – like an angel."

They ended it at that, before going on to the different training stations. They focused mainly on weapons, though they all kept an eye out on everyone, trying to see whether or not anyone else could be an asset. No one could ever know when a good alliance would come in handy.

When they were called for lunch, they gathered before making a move to the door, deciding to enter last to mull things over.

"Does she know about the alliance?" Marvel asked, looking from Twelve, Prim, and then Cato.

"Yes she does," replied Clove. "And she's also told Cato that she wouldn't join unless Twelve enters with her." She pulled her hair tie off, letting her hair out of its constraints. She ran a hand through her dark locks and sighed, "And now we're wondering whether or not she would either reconsider, or we could at least stop her from joining another alliance."

"She'd only be fixing our damages." Pan added thoughtfully, to which everyone agreed.

"Then why not just kill her immediately?" Vox asked with a raised brow. "That way, you eliminate a competitor and get rid of a potential problem."

Cato rounded on him with a glare so intense that Glimmer and Pan couldn't help the small gasps that escaped them. Clove only rolled her eyes, still annoyed at Cato's primitive behavior.

"No one touches her." He snarled, grabbing Vox' collar in his right fist roughly. " _I'll_  kill her when I'm done with her. She's  _mine_ , got it?"

"Caveman  _is_  the right word," Glimmer mused thoughtfully, causing all three of the girls to laugh, muttering about boys and their primal ways.

"I think you might have your answer about her reconsidering." Marvel said, watching as the petite girl they had just been talking about walked over to them. He looked to the door that led to the dining room, watching as the boy from twelve seemed to linger there, his eyes on Primrose.

Cato shoved Vox away, letting him go and turning around to watch his Rose as she came closer. He couldn't help but notice her faint blush, and he had to stop himself from grabbing her and taking her away from everyone, to demand who put the blush on her face and what the kiss she gave Peeta meant.

"Hello, Rose." He greeted with a handsome smile, and he mentally applauded himself when she visibly turned crimson. "Have you finally left that useless boy and come to join me?" He drawled with a raised brow, his eyes leaving Prim for a moment as he met Peeta's eyes briefly. He sent him a smug smirk, and was satisfied to see Peeta glower.

"I…"Prim began, capturing the Careers' attention. Anxious at their stares, she sucked on her lower lip before she continued, "I was wondering if I could join you in training tomorrow." She looked up at their faces, her eyes landing on who she thought was the friendliest looking of them all – Pan. "Peeta and I… uh, we've decided to stick together for today, so if it's alright with you, I'd like to train with you tomorrow."

Cato crossed his arms over his chest, miffed at her words. Why would she and Twelve have that deal? Had they gotten into another alliance already? Or maybe a partnership between the two of them…? His jaw clenched tightly, brows furrowing in thought. He didn't like anyone else even breathing too close to her, let alone teaming up with her. He remained unresponsive as he mulled things over.

"That sounds alright." Glimmer said, upon realizing that no one was speaking up. "We look forward to training with you tomorrow then." She smiled down at her fellow blonde, before skipping on over to her so that they were standing side by side. "Now, why don't we head on over to the dining room?" She looked over her shoulder to shoot everyone a look.

"Brilliant idea, Glimmer!" Clove said, catching on to Glimmer's plan to make Prim as comfortable as possible. If she was pulling a Johanna on them, it would be better to be on her good side then. "But let's meet everyone first, okay?" She said, placing an arm around Prim's shoulders. "Alright, you already know me, but let's have everyone introduce themselves."

"I'm Glimmer – from District One," A pleasant smile and a wave from the blonde with green eyes.

"Pan, four." A wave from the tan girl with black hair and brown eyes.

"Vox – District Four," A nod from the boy with puffy and curly brown hair that complemented his murky green eyes.

"Marvel." No reaction other than the movement of his lips from a pale boy with light brown locks and blue green eyes.

"It's nice to meet all of you. I'm Prim." She said politely, smiling up at them, she then turned her head in the direction of the door. "I better get going." She told them honestly. "I promised Peeta I wouldn't take long." She waved as she began to walk away, "It was nice to meet all of you, and I look forward to working with you tomorrow."

They all watched as she left, and before anyone could utter another word, Cato had gone ahead of them, following his Rose into the dining room. He had decided. He would have her by tonight. No matter the costs – screw The Alliance; screw Twelve.

Cato always got what he wanted in the end.

And he wanted Primrose Everdeen.

His Rose –  _Panem's Fire Angel_.


	6. Training (Day1; Part 2)

Chapter Six – Lunch and Training (Day 1; Part 2)

* * *

**PRIM**

Prim situated herself on the chair aptly labeled 12-F, which stood for District 12 – Female. With Peeta to her left, and Marvel across from her, Prim supposed she didn't have it so bad. But then again, she said that mostly because she was glad to have Peeta by her side and an empty space beside her as opposed to being situated between Peeta and the male District Eleven tribute if the arrangement had been done differently. When the food was served and everyone dug in, she leaned close to Peeta to whisper to him so that only they could hear.

"Should we be friendly here too?" She asked quickly, drawing back and reaching over to get some beef stew when Peeta intervened with playful grin. She froze for a moment until it registered in her mind that it was only Peeta, and not some other big bad tribute. She smiled at him, her entire face lighting up as she did so.

"Let me help you, Prim." Peeta said with a humorous wink shot her way. He lifted her plate and moved it closer to the dish before scooping a portion similar to the one she served herself back at their suite and on the train. She found it odd that he would pay attention to such things. "That enough?" He asked, despite already knowing the answer.

"Thanks," responded Prim with a giggle, watching as he laid the plate before her once more. "How very gentelemanly of you." She added, making Peeta chuckle.

"I don't think that's a word." He pointed out with a smile. "Anything else?" Peeta asked innocently, aware that most of the tributes were now looking at them. He was only really focused on two particular pairs of eyes though. Prim's and Cato's. He felt himself oddly warmed at the thought of having Prim's undivided attention, and he had to wonder if he was getting his feelings mixed up, since he felt pleased with himself as he could feel Cato's death glare burning holes in his head.

"No thank you." Prim then went on to eat quietly, nibbling on a roll of bread she had acquired from the basket in front of her. It tasted different from the bread she had tasted before, and she couldn't help but wonder why. As if Peeta had read her thoughts, he inched closer to her murmuring to her as they ate, explaining how the bread from each district differed based on the available resources and the like.

She smiled at the new knowledge, "You're really smart."

"Only when it comes to bread," Peeta shrugged, and couldn't help but sneak a peek at the seething Cato sitting to the right of Glimmer, the girl sitting across from him. He smirked. "What would you like to do after this?" He asked Prim, before noticing that there was some sauce on the corner of her lips. Taking his own table napkin, he raised it to her lips and gently wiped it away. "Messy eater," he teased, causing Prim's cheeks to heat up for the umpteenth time that day. He could only snigger at the action, which caused her to swat his arm jokingly.

"T-thanks," choked Prim out. "I was thinking we cou-"

The loud screeching of a chair's feet against that of the metal floor caught every tribute's attention, and they watched as an outraged Cato stood and left the room without a word. None of the Peacekeepers stopped him, seeing as he hadn't really done anything wrong, and he left everyone stunned in his wake.

Prim raised a brow, and turned to Peeta curiously, as if to ask if he knew why Cato left. Peeta only shrugged, though he was celebrating his self-proclaimed victory in his mind. He knew that the other tribute wanted something from Prim, and he was glad that he got the hint that she was his – even if only for today. Prim then turned to the other Careers, and found her gaze meeting that of Clove's. Blinking rapidly, completely unaware, Prim wondered if she would ever find out what that was about as she watched Clove stand at the same time Marvel did.

As everyone else filed out, Peeta and Prim lingered for a bit to discuss their next plans.

"So, where did you want to go?" Peeta asked as they stood by the door.

Prim thoughtfully looked around, taken aback when she saw that the Careers were now arguing, with Cato and Clove on one side, Glimmer and Vox on another. Pan and Marvel looked as if they were talking between themselves, not giving the others the time of day. She looked up to Peeta, "I think going to the herbs and plant station would be good, so that we could digest our food and then go on to the hand-to-hand combat."

"Sounds good to me."

And then they continued, with Prim acing the edible plants test and Peeta excelling in hand-to-hand combat. Prim helped Peeta out with identifying certain deadly plants, and Peeta coached her on some good tips when it came to battling an enemy with no weapons other than your entire body. They decided not to test any of their other known strengths, saving it for tomorrow and the day after, and they found themselves going to the station that taught everyone how to make a fire and other basic survival skills. They picked up on it rather quickly, even as they joked and talked all the while, much to the irritation of Cato and to the delight of Peeta.

* * *

**CATO**

The way she felt so comfortable around him just made Cato want to kill Twelve even more. He watched as they joked and ate, leaning over every few moments to whisper some words that only they could hear and understand. He didn't like their actions one bit, and every time he looked at them, his grip on the utensils tightened. It took all he had not to throw his knife at Twelve's heart. He was already planning out how he would gut  _Peeta Mellark_  like a fish and then burn him alive. Oh how he would enjoy that moment when it happened.

Across from him sat the girl from eleven, a girl a few inches taller than Prim despite being younger, and he could see the wheels turning in her mind. His rigid posture, his glares, and the anger that must've been radiating off of him – he would've been surprised if the girl  _didn't_  figure it out. It didn't matter though. Cato knew that the girl could think and assume all she wanted, but he wouldn't give one fuck about her because all he had in his mind was getting his Rose away from Twelve, and ensuring that she knew she was his – no one else's.

Seeing Twelve lean a little too close to his Rose was the last straw, and he had to leave or else risk getting punished by the Capitol for killing a Tribute before the games.

He needed to set his plans into motion. Fast.

When the other members of the Alliance reached him, he rolled his eyes. Clove and Glimmer were immediately all over him for overreacting, but when Glimmer had snapped about him being from District Two and that being the reason that he was supposedly a lunatic, Clove was quick to jump to his and their district's defense, with Vox piping in to say that they should still just kill the girl once the game started. That was when things got a little heated, because if it hadn't been for Marvel's arm and Pan's words in Vox's ear, District Four would've lost its male tribute before the games.

Cato waited for the training sessions to end, his eyes never leaving his Rose for more than a five minutes, perhaps even less all throughout the rest of the day.

His entire body hummed in anticipation. He could just picture it now – his Rose with him, her lips working against his, her eyes dark with lust, her body rocking against his, and her writhing beneath him as she moaned his name. He hadn't realized he had taken a more maniacal look until Marvel had placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Calm yourself." The District One tribute said. "You'll have time for that tomorrow…" Cato's posture did not relax, and Marvel smirked as he added, "Or later."

"I think I'll settle for later," replied Cato, laughing coldly, eyes shining with delight and excitement.

It was odd how two complete strangers could be so at ease with each other. Cato and Marvel weren't ashamed to say they knew next to nothing about the other, but both knew that when it came down to it, there was a big chance they would've understood each other better than anyone else. They had lived identical lives, once upon a time. And even now, the only actual thing that differentiated them – apart from their looks – was Cato's fixation with Primrose Everdeen.

Training ended and everyone was dismissed. Cato watched as everyone slowly filed out, leaving him, Marvel, Twelve, and his Rose in the room. Marvel clapped him on the back before waving his goodbye whispering a crude  _'have fun'_  to him as they passed each other. Chuckling, Cato promised that he would.

"Rose!" He called out, just as she and Twelve were about to enter the elevator – were they holding hands? His eyes narrowed dangerously as he stalked towards them. When he reached them, he blatantly ignored Twelve and addressed only his Rose. "I'd like to talk to you,  _alone_ , about last night."

"Let's go Prim," said Peeta, tugging at his partner's hand gently. He didn't want to have to deal with Cato now. And obviously, Cato didn't want to deal with him either, now if only he could get Prim to see it in his point of view as well…"We shouldn't be wasting our time with him." There was an edge in his voice that told Cato there was a big possibility he knew of what had transpired between Cato and Prim, which only made Cato's day better. Ha! Maybe Twelve  _hasn't_  made a move on his Rose yet.

Prim, torn as she was, looked from Peeta and Cato cautiously. She didn't know who to stay with, and as Haymitch's orders rang in her mind, she couldn't help but waver. Peeta was obviously the safer and more appropriate choice, but she wanted to talk to Cato – of course she did! – to clear things up. Why had he kissed her? What was their group's purpose for taking her into the alliance? Various thoughts along those lines and more raced through her head as she considered her options.

"I-I'm sorry." She said honestly. "Maybe tomorrow," amended Prim thoughtfully.

Cato frowned, surprised that she had declined him. Him! – One of the best (and most handsome) students at the academy and even in these wretched games. On impulse, he grabbed her by the arms, roughly pulling her out of Twelve's grip, and shook her.

"No." He growled. "We need to talk  _now_." He could see her eyes begin to water, and he faintly remembered that she was most definitely not as muscled nor as big as any of the others he had encountered, and so would probably bruise easily.

"C-cato!" Prim winced at the pressure of his fingers against her skin. From her years of experience as a healer, she knew that by the time this whole fiasco ended, she would have bruises the shape of Cato's fingers. She made an effort to place her hands on his upper arms to try and push herself off of him, only to no avail.

"Prim!" Peeta exclaimed, rushing to Cato's side at the same time as the Peacekeepers did. With two of them helping him out, Prim finally got herself out of the slightly deranged Career's grasp.

Breathing heavily, she looked up at Cato fearfully. Her tears began to fall one at a time, and she was barely aware of the fact that she had been scooped into Peeta's arms and was now being carried inside the elevator. She wrapped her arms around Peeta's shoulders chancing one last look at Cato, who stood alone and watched her and Peeta with a look that could have killed a thousand men.

And just as the elevator doors closed, Prim couldn't help but think that she saw him mouth a word at her.

_Rooftop._

Cato knew that his plans had been delayed the moment he had lost control, but he was far from stopping. One thing he knew better than the fact that he always got what he wanted, was that he loved a challenge. While seeing her in Twelve's arms had been a serious drawback and source of irritation, he would see to it that it wouldn't matter by the end of the night.

And a challenge taking his Rose would be.

He grinned as he entered the elevator to head to his floor. "And what a beautiful game I'm playing." He told himself with a laugh.

"Accomplish anything, Cato?" Clove asked conversationally, having just left her room as Cato appeared. She eyed the man with a raised brow, a yawn escaping her as she waited for him to speak.

"Of course," replied Cato smoothly. "Before the day is over." He told her firmly. "Mark my words, Clove –  _before the day is over_." He glared at Clove when she only snorted in response, making his way to his room for a shower.

Once clean and feeling fresher and calmer than when he had entered, Cato stepped out of his bath, letting the latest technologies in drying one's self do the menial job of using a towel. He stood in his room, naked as the day he was born, looking around. Finding nothing that would keep his attention, he turned it to his cabinet, looking for an outfit that would be worthy enough to be worn before he took his Rose.

Finished and pleased with his look after having settled for a dark blue-gray shirt and a pair of denim jeans. He had thought of going shirtless like the previous night, but didn't think that it would sit well with his Rose – he wouldn't risk her running away, even if he would be able to catch her. Her prep team, mentor, district escorts, and especially district partner might interfere, and that wouldn't do for his plans.

He looked himself over in a mirror before confidently stepping out of his room and into the living room. He saw Lyme and Brutus there; talking in hushed tones, with Brutus sitting on the arm of the chair Lyme was situated. Ignoring them, Cato left to head to the staircases that would lead to the roof, but just as he was about to pull the door open, his attention was called by his only male mentor.

"I'll let you have your fun tonight." The burly man said seriously. "But tomorrow better be the hell of a lot better than today. I thought you would be above losing your temper like that." He sneered, "Apparently I was wrong… and all for some girl too!"

Cato smirked, turning to face his mentor.

"This is  _my_  games, Brutus." He said. "I doubt that my temper would affect my chances of getting sponsors as much as the scores and interviews would. And she's not just  _some_  girl." Without caring about Brutus' warning, Cato left the room and headed to the roof, where he knew his Rose would be.

As he walked, he had to wonder why he had said what he did. Of course she was just some girl! Why else would he go after her if not just for her body? He rolled his eyes at his dull comeback. It had made him sound as if he actually cared for the girl – which he didn't!

Upon reaching the final step, he chuckled at seeing her there. He licked his lips at the beautiful sight – his Rose stood by the railings, looking out at the setting sun in a light blue dress that he knew brought out her eyes. She was barefoot, and her hair was free from any restraints, flowing with the wind, and all he could think about was how it would feel to have his hands tangled in her blonde locks.

"I knew you'd come." Cato said finally, after nearly two minutes of just standing there and watching her. It got tiring when he remembered that he didn't go up to  _just_  watch her. He watched, amused, as she jumped in shock before turning only her head to face him. Her lips were pale, though her lower lip looked to have more color than her upper lip. He tore his gaze from her to reluctantly to survey his surroundings. He had to make sure no one had followed her or was watching her. He had to see to it that no one would get in the way.

"I wanted to hear what you had to say." He heard her mumble, and he wanted to laugh at her naiveté. Did she honestly think he was here to  _talk_? He settled for a sigh as he walked on over to her, repeating his actions from the previous night and trapping her between him and the metal bars.

He smiled at her before he buried his nose on the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. It was weird. He had never experienced anything like it before, and he loved every moment of it! Her scent was unremarkably addicting to him – he had never smelled any combination like it.

Roses and strawberries.

Roses and strawberries.

Roses and strawberries.

Roses.

Roses.

Rose.

_His Rose._

His nose had moved up to the hollow of her ear and he pressed a kiss to the space just beneath her ear, finding delight when she shivered. He closed his eyes momentarily to just savor the feel of having her this close before he opened them once more.

"Turn around," came his command. She did so carefully, and when her smooth thin arms brushed against his own muscular arms, he grinned. Her bright blue eyes seemed to dart everywhere, avoiding his face – avoiding him, in general. Irritated, he frowned and said sharply, "Look at me."

Prim's eyes met his, and she took a step back upon seeing that his hazel eyes had darkened considerably and now looked more like chocolate. She inhaled sharply as he took a step towards her, making her back hit the metal railing. She winced, fearing that she might somehow come into contact with the electrical barrier.

"C-cato…" breathed Prim uneasily. "What are you d-doing?" Her eyebrows rose as panic filled her entire body. She hadn't expected this! But she knew she should have, and she felt undeniably gullible for believing that he had been open to explaining everything to her. She shouldn't have come! She should've stayed at her floor, with Peeta and Cinna, and all the nice members on District Twelve's team.

Smirking and growing tired of talking; Cato pressed his lips to hers softly before pulling back and resting his forehead against hers. His smile was small and seemed almost sweet and genuine if it weren't for his crazed eyes. His darkened orbs alone made Prim more afraid of him than she used to be.

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked, before chuckling. "I'm taking what's  _mine_."

Cato then scooped her into his arms, bridal style, swallowing her shriek with a searing kiss. Oh yes, he was surely taking her tonight. Even if she opposed him, he wouldn't let it stop him. He's done it before, and he would do it again. There was nothing to it.


	7. The Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Semi-graphic sexual scenes within the chapter, feel free to skip if you are uncomfortable with such.

 

Chapter Seven – The Encounter

* * *

Prim's breathing had gone uneven the moment she had been swept into his arms, and she couldn't quite fathom why she hadn't screamed, even when he had stopped kissing her. It was as if her voice had been ripped from her, and so had her mind's ability to form coherent thoughts apparently. All she could comprehend was what was happening to her, and it was as if she were some outsider forced to watch as she was helplessly brought to a door that had the District Two logo on it.  _Like a camera_ , she thought as a tear escaped her sky blue orbs. Fear shone in her eyes and every fiber of her being as Cato shifted the way he was carrying her, so that he could go about opening the door before carrying her in.

It was as if she weighed nothing – the way he moved – and probably to him, she did weigh nothing. It was an alarming thought, that he could just grab her and take her somewhere so easily, and she could feel herself begin to have a panic attack. Their weights varied nearly as much as their height, and she knew even before she was aware of what he was going to do to her, she would have no chance of fighting him. Not here, not now, and not even in the games. Maybe if she actually had a panic attack he'd let her go, the brought no comfort in Prim's mind. To her knowledge, she'd never had a panic attack before, and she had no idea whether or not she would have one now.

She swallowed at the thought. Was this what she had succumbed to? Becoming some sort of object or plaything? – for a Career, no less! What would her loved ones think of her? What would Peeta say? – And then do to Cato? – WHAT WOULD KATNISS THINK? Would they think any less of her? For not fighting back…? She had never been a fighter. That was Katniss' area of expertise. Prim excelled in healing and all the other tame chores, while Katniss did everything else. Knife throwing was the only thing Prim could do competently. And even there, she was sure Katniss was a whole lot better than she would ever be!

Cato felt her tense in his arms and he guessed that she had figured out what he was going to do. He smiled, though it was dark and foreboding, as he went straight to his room, not giving a surprised Clove and the District 2 stylists the time of day. Who would give them a thought when he had his Rose in his arms? Clove's words could be yelled and heard later, he thought with a roll of his eyes. He didn't quite give a care about the stylists.

He entered his room and deposited her on the spacious bed before locking the door, making sure no one entered without his consent or without him knowing. This would be his time with his Rose. And no one would ruin it.

With that done, he turned his attention on the beautiful angel that had crawled up into one corner of the bed, panting and shaking like the last leaf in autumn. He took his time getting to her, enjoying the way her frightened eyes seemed to dart around the room, looking for a way out. Oh, she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon!

"Do you know why you're here, Rose?" He breathed, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes taking in her pale form and exposed legs. His eyes rested on the latter as he swallowed. Her legs were nearly bare to him, seeing as the hem of her dress had settled nearly six inches above her knees. If he bent down, he knew he would see just what kind of underwear she was wearing, and whether or not she was as affected as he was. The thought exhilarated him, and he leaned down, propping himself up on the bed using his hands.

"I'd appreciate hearing an answer." He said huskily, making a move closer to the scared girl.

"You're going to k-k-kiss me again." Prim mumbled, despite other thoughts ringing in her mind. She understood what he was going to do to her, but it didn't mean she would admit it to him. That would be admitting it to herself. Her pulse quickened and she could feel the loud beating of her heart ring in her ears. She crawled back, finding her tailbone press against a corner of the end table. She gasped as she looked down at the table and then back to the face of what would surely be her demise.

"Oh I'll be doing more than that." He smirked, before grabbing one of her ankles and pulling her closer to him. He relished in her sharp intake of breath, and crawled closer to her so that he was situated between her legs, their thighs touching oh so intimately. He could feel himself harden, and a guttural growl escaped him as he leaned down so that his lips hovered over hers. "Tell me Prim, why are you and your  _partner_  so close?" He moved to press a kiss to her chin, before moving on to her jaw, placing open-mouthed kisses as he went.

Prim, recalling his earlier words, didn't want to risk getting him angry. She was sure that her arms probably had bruises now, and she didn't fancy herself wanting to get more. It had hurt earlier, and with no one to stop him now, she knew he could harm her in more ways than she could imagine. "A-aren't you and Clo-oh!-ve the same?" She had a lot of trouble speaking as his kisses seemed to invoke unwarranted reactions from her. Something pooled in the pit of her stomach, and she clenched her fists.

Pausing in his ministrations to smirk at her reactions and to respond to her question, he let his fingertips graze over her exposed thighs, thrilled when her eyes fluttered close and her breathing hitched. "We're not." He said, laying his palm flat against her thigh, smiling when she shivered. His entire upper body was flat against hers, and his erection was pressed to her core, which served to make Prim blush – a welcome reaction for him. "I want you to stay away from him."

Prim's eyes opened and searched his when he spoke, and she was surprised at the change in them once more. His pupils were so dilated, and his voice – oh his voice! – It was now deeper and hoarser than any she had ever heard. The knot that she had felt in the pit of her stomach wound tighter, and she could feel warmth pool in her flower. "B-but I can't." Her eyes widened upon feeling his hand on her thigh. She wriggled, trying to get away, but it only served to press his hardness against her even more, and her frantic eyes darted from each of his as she felt a warmth she had never experienced before trickle out of her womanhood..

"Why not?" He growled, getting angry. His hand trailed up until his fingertips found the elastic of her underwear. He ran his fingers over the fabric lightly. "You're going to join our alliance and stay away from him." He smirked. "Or do you want him to die the moment that he steps off that platform when we get to the arena?" He kissed a trail down the column of her neck, knowing he had caught her attention now, more so than he had earlier. If threatening her partner was the way to get her to stick around, then so be it.

"W-what?" She gasped when he reached a particular space on her neck – just where her shoulder and neck met. And when he licked it before biting down and sucking on it, she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips. What was happening to her? She felt as if her entire body was on fire.

A feral growl left Cato's lips, and he glared as he hissed in her ear, "You heard me." He said through clenched teeth, despite some part of him loving the sound of her moan. "You join the alliance –  _stay with me_  – or I'll kill Lover Boy the second he's off of that platform. And I'm not talking about quick and painless either." He swallowed audibly. "Maybe I'll wound him and then let him go for a while. I'll let him rest for a bit before I go and hunt him. And when I finally find him, I'll make sure each of the knives that I gain will be stained with his blood. And I'll let him know that you could've put a stop it, but  _didn't_."

"NO!" Prim's hands, which had been limp and clenched into fists at her sides, rose to rest on Cato's shoulders as her darkened blue eyes met his gaze. "I-I'll do it." She fought to keep the tears at bay. "I'll… I… I'm going to join the alliance. Just… P-please, if you have to, make it quick and painless. For Peeta." She stilled her uneven breathing for a moment. He wouldn't let someone suffer for as long as she could put a stop to it! Especially if that someone was a person as kind and selfless as Peeta. "You can do what you want with me, but leave him alone." She hesitantly paused, before she leaned up and kissed Cato.

She had meant for the kiss to be quick – nothing but a simple peck – but Cato had other plans, as he poured all his anger and frustration into the kiss, deepening it when she gasped upon his tongue's probing. The hand that had been resting on her underwear crept up to rest on her waist, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles on her bare skin. The hem of her dress was now uneven, with one side just above her waist and the other just above her hips.

Prim, who had no experience at all, tentatively moved her tongue against his, and was surprised when he let out a sound from the back of his throat, eyes closing in the process. Her eyes fluttered close as well, and she let one hand rest on the back of his neck, while the other cautiously tangled itself into his hair. Well she had certainly never thought that her actual first kiss would go like this! She was definitely not counting the one on the roof.

Rolling over so that he was beneath Prim, Cato broke away reluctantly. He smirked as he took in her flushed face and plump lips. Her hair fell on either side of her face, falling over them like golden curtains. Her normally light blue eyes had darkened considerably, and Cato knew that she wasn't just doing this for her partner. No matter what she may say, she wanted him too. She was now straddling his waist, and his uncomfortably constricted erection was making a tent of his jeans and was barely grazing her ass. Both his hands were now on her bare waist, and he moved them up and down lazily, as she placed her hands against his chest for support, so that she wouldn't just fall flat on him.

"Take your clothes off." He ordered.

Prim froze, eyes going wide. She swallowed the lump in her throat and shakily began to stand so that she could properly remove the garment, but the hands on her waist refused to let her go. She blushed at the implication. He wanted her to undress while on top of him? She supposed that she couldn't really degrade herself anymore than she had already gone, and so complied with much reluctance. She could feel herself heat up as a rosy red blush crept from her neck to her face.

Left in only her white panty and bra, she shivered at the cold as she chucked the dress to the floor. She turned away from Cato, unable to look him in the eyes as they raked over her petite form.

"Now remove my shirt," came his smooth command. In the back of her mind, she found herself wondering if he had done this before, before she chastised herself and decided that yes, he most probably has. She moved to do as she was told, but was halted when he used one hand to turn her head to him. "I want you to look at me." He growled, and she nodded deftly in response.

He sat up, so now she was on his lap and their bodies no more than a couple of inches apart. He let go of her only to slip his head and arms out of the shirt's holes, before he went on to place open mouthed kisses on her exposed skin. He grinned upon seeing that she was wearing the type of bra that was clasped at the front. He took it off with ease and began to pay much attention to her breast courtesy of his mouth and hands.

"Take off my pants." He breathed, his lips just above her collar bone. He pressed a kiss there, but then he felt her stiffen and his eyes narrowed. "I said,  _take them off_." He hissed, looking up at her. His eyes flashed dangerously, a frightening glint shining in them. Was she really going to stop now? Prim squirmed, earning a groan from him as she pressed her – wet, he noted with a dark smile – womanhood against his covered erection.

What was she doing? Prim's eyes were wide with horror – as if she had only just woken up for the day. What had happened to her? She shook as she tried to get away. Using her hands on his shoulders, she pushed with all the strength she could muster. She tried to stand, but found it increasingly hard as his hands on her body painfully held her down. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she understood that she should have snapped out of it sooner!

"Stop." Cato ordered through his teeth. "I said stop!"

SMACK!

The sound of skin against skin echoed throughout the room, and the occupants froze, keeping eye contact. Clear blue eyes the color of the sky collided with hazel, which upon closer inspection showed that his iris was mostly an olive green with a golden brown outline and flecks of gold as well.

For a while, it was unclear who had slapped who, but as Cato's cheek began to sting and became colored a tomato red that was in the shape of Prim's petite handprint, everything was cleared.

Eyes now dark with anger instead of lust, Prim feared Cato would retaliate and kill her then and there. A tear slid down her cheek. Was this how she would die? In her underwear and in a strange man's bed...? Her hand covered her lips as she began to cry, though no sob seemed to escape her lips, her tears went on like waterfalls. Why had she let it get this far only to defy him in the end? What would the consequences of her actions be? Would he make Peeta suffer because of it? Would he kill her slowly too?

THUD.

She fell to the floor with a gasp, and she didn't dare look up at Cato. Keeping her eyes to the floor, she closed them when he heard him speak.

"Go." Cato ordered, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. He brought his hands up to massage his temples. When he heard no indication of her leaving, he opened his eyes and prayed that she wouldn't be able to see the emotions he couldn't hold back. He couldn't quite understand himself, much less have someone interpret it. "I SAID GO!"

Prim's eyes briefly met his, and she scrambled to get on her feet. She quickly threw on her dress and left the room, running as fast as her feet could take her. Her breaths were short and uneven, and she felt her cheeks burn as she blushed upon passing two women conversing by the elevator.

Once she reached her district's floor, she paused to catch her breath. She was safe! She had gotten away from that monster and she could now get back to her room and –

"Prim?"

She froze and slowly looked up. Seeing Peeta's concerned face, she couldn't help but let a sob escape her as she flung her arms around his neck. Surprised, it took a second for Peeta to carefully wrap his arms around her small frame, holding her close and supporting her as her body shook.

"Shh," said Peeta. "Don't worry. I'm here. You can tell me what's wrong. I was just about to look for you, you know." He ran his fingers through her hair and then moved his hand up and down her back soothingly, while his other arm stayed secure around her waist. Being taller than her, she only reached until his chest, and so he could easily look down at the girl in his arms. Her small frame quivered as she cried, and it was then that he saw the bruises that were beginning to form on her body. An anger he couldn't control was beginning to overwhelm him, but he forced himself to calm down. Prim needed him right now. His heart went out for the girl. What had happened?

They stayed standing there for what felt like hours, until Prim's crying turned into sniffles and then hiccups. Peeta took her into his arm, carrying her bridal style over to the couch. She was lighter than he had expected, and so it was easy for him to carry her without much effort at all. He set her down gently, and turned to head to the kitchen, intent on getting her a glass of water. He took a step, but couldn't take another, seeing as his wrist had been seized by both of Prim's hands.

Prim looked at Peeta, her eyes pleading with his. She felt so scared and alone, and the only time she found that she didn't feel that way was when she was with him. She smiled a little when he nodded and took a seat beside her. No words had to be said. She needed someone to be there for her, and Peeta was more than willing to be that person. She rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled closer to the warmth radiating from his body when he placed an arm around her.

Peeta watched as Prim's breathing slowly evened out, and soon she was snoring.

There was no doubt in his mind that Cato was behind this. The bruises on her arms were enough evidence for Peeta to believe so. It was only a matter of figuring out exactly what had transpired.

* * *

**CATO**

Livid, Cato trashed his room.

He threw his covers off the bed and then upturned the mattress, sending it to the floor. He threw around everything within reach, and even kicked dents into the wooden furniture. His fist came into contact with the wall a couple of times, and at others, he cradled his head with his hand, just screaming.

Why had he stopped?

He closed his eyes as the question reappeared in his mind. He had been so sure of himself. He wanted nothing more than her body. He could've easily taken her, even if she struggled, she wouldn't have won. He knew that. She knew that.  _Everyone_  knew that. But what had made him stop? He had done the deed before – and had gotten away with it – what changed now?

Was he growing weak? Had he been falling into her trap this whole time? Was he truly as worthless as his own flesh and blood had claimed? He could feel the tears prickling the back of his eyelids and he cursed. Who the fuck was this girl –  _his Rose_  – to evoke such emotions in him? Heck, he didn't even know her! He barely did then, and he barely did now.

His eyes opened just as he heard loud pounding against the door. It was about time that his  _team_  came to check on him. He opened it with a blank expression, taking in an angry Clove and concerned Enobaria. He guessed that they probably saw Rose run out.

"Yes?" He asked lazily, cocking his head to the side. He had built up his mask then, he could rebuild it just as easily now. "Need anything?" He was well aware he still had no shirt on as Enobaria's eyes widened before taking in his appearance and the mess that had become of his room. He rolled his eyes. Like there was anything to worry about. The Avoxes would clean it up.

Clove was the first to actually do something of interest to Cato. She pushed him, and he stumbled backwards slightly. "You bastard! Cato, shit, did you… Fuck, did you really have sex with her?" Cato watched with a raised brow as Clove began to pace. "Cato! Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Sh-"

Cato placed a hand over Clove's lips. "Stop that. It's annoying." He sent her a glare before taking his hand off of her and then letting his gaze wander over to Enobaria. "And you?"

"I heard you," was Enobaria's simple reply, which was followed by a roll of Clove's eyes and footsteps coming closer.

"Care to explain why that wannabe – usually drunk – mentor from Twelve just asked me to make sure that Primrose stayed in an alliance with us? He was close to sober too!" Brutus asked the party, his eyes confused as he ran a hand through his hair. Lyme stood by his side, expression blank. Cato and Clove idly wondered if the two ever left the other's side. "And just what happened in here?"

It was no surprise that someone wanted to team up with those who had a higher chance of surviving in the games, but it was a surprise that District Twelve's mentor would actually want to form one. For years they had kept to themselves. Granted, most of the tributes they had put forth were pretty useless; Haymitch had never been one to let his tributes too close to the enemy.

" _Haymitch_  came to you?" Enobaria asked, even more surprised than when she saw the mess in Cato's room. Tired of seeing them all in front of his room, Cato stepped out, pulling Clove by her wrist so that she was outside too, and then closed the door. He looked around and found an Avox standing by the end of the hall.

He barked out, "Clean my room, now!" before he ushered everyone to the living area, listening to the tale of how Haymitch met up with Brutus earlier and asked about the terms of the alliance, with Lyme answering all the necessary questions. He was beginning to get a migraine as he tried to make sense of their words. But all he could hear in his head was his Rose's scream of  _"No!"_  and the visual that came with it.

The way she had tried to get away and the fear in her eyes – as if she was trying to get away from a monster. He paused at the thought. Since when had he cared what others – especially some little girl he didn't even know – thought of him? He felt an odd feeling in his gut – like it had just received a massive blow, and he frowned visibly. This was ridiculous. He came into the games to win, not to worry about what some girl thought of him.

He tried to clear his head. He closed his eyes and slouched on the chair he was sitting on, not realizing that he was receiving odd looks from the people around him. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, and was just about to stand and leave the room when he felt a hand on his arm. He looked up sharply.

Clove.

"Come with me." She said, using the hand on his arm to pull him to his feet. She led him to her room, and he pointedly ignored all the mixed looks he was receiving. He didn't need them. He'd win the games without their help if he had to.

And that's when his thoughts froze.

When the games came around, would he kill his Rose? He knew he  _can_ , but he had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to. He clenched his fists. If she was going to be in the alliance, he would let the others take care of her. She wanted nothing to do with him, right? Then she would have her wish. He would ignore her until she came begging for his attention. But in the back of his mind Cato knew he was kidding himself. It would be hard to ignore someone as beautiful and pure as his Rose. And with the way she kissed him earlier – and her taste! She was too damned irresistible. He closed his eyes with a groan. He had to stop torturing himself.

"What happened? What's going on with you? You're obviously not alright." Clove watched Cato carefully, before stepping closer to him and placing both her hands to cup his face. Seeing as his eyes were still closed, she pursed her lips in thought. "We're not in the arena yet, Cato. You can still talk to me. Actually, no... I  _demand_  you to talk to me." She smiled, eyes shining with expectation and caution, hoping to get a reaction out of him. She understood that he was temperamental though – always was and always will be. Even when they had been together, he was volatile and rarely ever let anyone else in. But unlike with his other conquests, she and he had had something close to the real thing.

They had been there for each other during some really tough times in their lives, and when they broke apart after a year filled with so much meaning and emotion, it was on good terms and an understanding that while they cared for each other, they weren't destined for a relationship. They were too similar in some fronts – mainly the whole volatility thing. It was as if they were both made out of fire, and they would only burn everything if they had stayed together. They would have been miserable, they both knew that now.

Cato grabbed hold of both Clove's fists with his hands, a small smile gracing his lips, which made Clove smile as well. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were about to kiss me." He smirked, opening his eyes. "And nothing happened." He frowned and Clove listened to his next words, knowing he needed to get it out of his system. "Which is exactly the problem… I had her, Clove! She was right there. On my lap and in my arms. But when she…" He paused, eyes widening as he tightened his grip on clove's wrist and took a step back, taking Clove with him. "She said no! And then… and then she slapped me!"

The look in his eyes was something akin to a cross between a hurt child and a deranged man. Clove bit the inside of her cheek at the observation. Was this what her friend had truly fallen to?

"And now I see what's got you in such a weird mood." She said with a laugh, though to the both of them, it was empty and meaningless. She pinched his cheeks before pulling her hands and wrists away from him. She smirked and sat herself on her bed comfortably. "You've never had anyone say no to you…" She paused, a memory flashing before her eyes. "And get away with it." She added, because she knew – of course she did – he had raped someone before.

Cato glared at her. No shit, as if he hadn't already figured that out. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall. "You don't get it." He said angrily. "I could've taken her – even by force. I've done it before, and you know it. But I don't understand why I let her go. For fuck's sake she's probably all cozy with that  _other guy_ right now." He spat the words as if they were Peeta's actual name, to which Clove only rolled her eyes.

Her gaze didn't falter when he mentioned having raped someone before. She knew who it was and even knew the day he committed the crimes that came with it. He had fucked her and then killed her when she threatened to expose him. It was a onetime thing, and the girl had thought he was bluffing when he said he'd kill her. Clove visited the girl on the same day every year. It was also the day that she and Cato had first become an item, and what a memory it was.

"Don't be too quick to judge, Cato." She reprimanded, talking about how he was accusing Prim of shacking up with Peeta. "But I have to ask you." She met his cold gaze head on, "Are you really only after her body?" She watched as he seemed to stiffen visibly, and before he could even speak; his reaction and the various emotions that had flashed in his eyes were answer enough. Clove kept that to herself though. It wouldn't do to anger or trigger this lunatic of a man that she had for a friend.

"Of course I am." He replied arrogantly, before smirking and adding, "I don't think I've ever fucked a virgin before." He shrugged. It was odd though, how sure he was that she was a virgin. For all he knew she could've been having sex with Peeta, but something in his gut told him that wasn't the case. He frowned once more. His gut seemed to have a lot of opinion these days.


	8. The Mess

Chapter Eight – The Mess

* * *

**PRIM**

Prim's eyes groggily opened to find that she was in her own room. She pushed herself up, wincing at the kinks in different parts of her body. She stretched to get rid of them, and racked her brain for the events that took place before she fell asleep. As everything came rushing to her in a nauseating wave of flashbacks and pictures, Prim couldn't help but burry her head in her hands in pure agony. She could feel bile rising to her throat, and she wanted to scramble to her feet to head to the bathroom but found herself unable to move. It was as if her body couldn't comprehend what her mind wanted.

A small whimper escaped her, alerting the sleeping figure that had found solace in the chair by her bed.

Peeta's eyes snapped wide open and without another thought, he came to her aide, sitting on her bed and pulling her close. An arm wrapped around her waist as his other hand stroked her curls, his chin coming to rest atop her head. The steady  _tha-thump_  of his heartbeat against her ear helped ease Prim quite a bit.

"Shhh," said Peeta softly. "I'm here,  _you're_  here, Prim. You're safe…  _You're safe_." He continued to murmur soothing words to her, relaxing when she finally calmed completely. He lifted his head to look down at her, finding himself lost in a pool of blue eyes that was so much brighter and lighter than his own. He raised a hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "Are you hungry?" He whispered, not wanting to break the serene moment that had befallen them. When she nodded, he moved to get off the bed. He stood and was about to help her up when she passed by him and went straight to her bathroom.

Worried, he followed her and saw that she was in front of the toilet, a hand holding her curls behind her head while the other steadied her. He moved to stand behind her and gathered her hair with both his hands. He sighed softly as Prim emptied the contents of her stomach. How could someone so young and sweet gotten into such a mess? When there was nothing left to unload, Prim leaned against Peeta's leg with her eyes closed.

"Why don't you freshen up and I'll prepare you something to eat?" He offered, to which she nodded.

When he reached the kitchen, he was surprised to find that Haymitch was there too. Prim arrived a minute or so later, looking more refreshed than when she was soiling the toilet.

"Have a seat, Angel." The lone District Twelve Victor ordered, gesturing to a stool located by the counter. Prim couldn't help the fear and anxiety that trickled into her system. Was she in trouble? She cautiously walked on over to the stool, her bare feet leaving small footprints on the tiled floor that slowly faded. She pulled herself up to sit, and Peeta turned his attention to preparing her something to eat.

Haymitch's eyes stayed on Prim as he scrutinized her. He had gone out and ensured the longevity of her life in the games. If things went according to his plan – which he highly doubted – she would stay alive until there was only her and the careers left, at which point she could go out and kill them off, provided she had the right weapons.

Haymitch ran a hand through his hair as he regarded the blonde girl before him once more. He was sober and unbelievably awake. It was a refreshing, if not odd, feeling. After having gotten used to getting sloshed and more often than not, making a fool of himself, he found that there was something extremely profound in staying away from liquor. It was eye-opening, as if he had only just woken up from a long nightmare. But of course the nightmare never really ends.

With a click of his tongue, he spoke. "Do you plan on telling us what happened? While you had disappeared off to who knows where...?" He was sitting on a stool, with two between them, he rested an elbow on the counter as he placed his chin to be cupped by his palm. The way Peeta's movement slowed was not lost on anyone. He was just as curious as Haymitch, though he had an idea of where she had been. Prim's gaze fell to the black marble counter and bit the inside of her cheek after having found that her lower lip was rather sore. In fact, now that she thought about it, her whole body was sore.

"I… I met up with C-Cato after Training," began the young blonde, and Peeta tensed. He had been hoping that he was mistaken.

And so she went on to say exactly what had occurred, leaving out the graphic details of what had happened within the confines of Cato's room. When she finished, Peeta had laid out a clubhouse sandwich with some fries before her. He ran soothing motions on her arm, as he asked her what she wanted to drink.

The only sounds that echoed throughout the entire floor was the sniffles that were left over from Prim's crying, Peeta's ragged breathing (his poor attempt at calming himself down) and Haymitch's bed slipper-clad foot tapping against the floor as he took a swig of the spirit he had taken during the middle of her story. He was beginning to regret placing her into the Alliance, but he knew that if she were to have a chance at winning, then that would be it. Besides, Peeta had made it clear he wanted her to survive and have a longer life –  _even at the cost of his own_.

Haymitch and Peeta stayed silent as they watched Prim eat. The former's face was calm and indifferent, as opposed to the latter who was barely keeping himself together. Peeta wanted nothing more than to kill Cato. He wanted to wrap his hands around the other boy's neck and just snap it in half. The only thing keeping him in check was the young girl beside him. He reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, like he had done earlier, and he could just feel all his anger and frustration slowly melt away thanks to her presence alone. It was amazing how such a small being could have such an influence over him. He'd have thought that the only person who would ever evoke such strong emotions in him would be her older sister.

When she finished, she picked up her plates to clean them, but Haymitch raised a hand to stop her and told both of them to head to bed and that he would have one of the Avoxes clean it up. They nodded and left their mentor to his own devices, with Peeta's arm wrapped securely around Prim's shoulders as he escorted her to her room.

"Will you be all right?" Peeta asked as they reached her door. The dim light gave him a small glimpse of her shaking her head, and he wasn't surprised when she had launched herself into his frame, her arms locking around his midsection. His own arms came to wrap around her and he closed his eyes. "We'll get through this, Prim." He said softly. "I know we can. You only have to deal with him tomorrow – Maybe not even then! I'm sure we'll stick together on the third day." As empty as the promises were, it soothed both Prim and Peeta's anxiety, if only for a bit.

"Can I sleep in your room tonight, Peeta? I feel like if I'm alone… He might suddenly…" She trailed off, and despite the fact that her voice was muffled by his shirt, he understood. He nodded his affirmation and then they headed to his room, both looking forward to a good night's rest.

* * *

The sun rose far too early for Prim and Peeta's liking, and they both turned away from the window whose curtains had been pulled back by one Effie Trinket, who was calling for them to get up and get ready for breakfast. Prim, who was curled up on the right side of the bed, and therefore farthest from the window, groaned when she felt someone place an arm around her and pull her close, a nose brushing gently against her neck. She froze at the contact, eyes opening instantly. It took a while for it to register in Prim's mind that she was not in Cato's bed, and that she was in fact, in Peeta's. She hadn't even realized that she had held her breath until it came out in a rush out of her mouth. She turned her head, her cheek coming into contact with Peeta's blonde hair. She was safe here. She could trust Peeta, and in his arms, she was safe and sound.

"Peeta," croaked Prim, her voice coming out smaller than usual from lack of use.

An unintelligible sound passed Peeta's lips, and Prim huffed. She tried to lift Peeta's arm off of her, but found her attempts fruitless. Not only did they need to get up because Effie was calling them, but she also needed to pee! She looked up at the sound of giggling and found Effie, Cinna, and Portia by the doorway, watching them with amusement. A warm blush rose to Prim's cheeks as she tried to lift Peeta's arm once again.

She tried to think of ways to get Peeta to wake up. A small smile played on her lips as she cleared her throat, gaining Effie, Cinna, and Portia's attention. They watched as she opened her mouth and sniggered at her next words.

"Peeta, the bread's burning! Your mother's on her way." Prim hissed quickly, loud enough for everyone to hear, and an urgency in her tone that was almost as real as when she had panicked last night. Peeta's arm was quick to retract itself from around her waist and to his side. He sat up straight, stiff as a board, causing Effie, Cinna, Portia, and Prim to burst out laughing, which then caught the attention of a curious Haymitch. Peeta groaned, hating the way that the blood rushed to his head.

With a raised brow, the District Twelve mentor wandered over to the entire racket. His eyes moved from the laughing Prim to the confused Peeta, and then to the amused trio and then back. Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he left them with a wave and a call to, "Get moving and eat. Meeting during breakfast."

When everyone had gotten ready, with Prim apologizing to Peeta and the latter pretending not to notice the former, Effie, Cinna, and Portia led everyone to the dining table. It seemed like a great way to start the day. With everyone seated and the food served, breakfast began with a light air and with the promise of a beautiful day.

"The plan goes on as discussed," said Haymitch, effectively cutting through the friendly atmosphere. A darker, more sober mood settled around the occupants, and he swore that you could've heard a pin drop. "Prim will stay with the Careers, and Peeta will stay alone for the day. Whatever happens today will determine what you'll do tomorrow. Got it?"

The tense silence was shattered by the unwanted sound of the feet of a chair grinding against the floor. It was followed by the loud clattering of utensils as it fell to the floor. It took a second for it to sink in that it was Peeta that had done the aforementioned things, and Prim watched with wide eyes the events that were unfolding before her.

"What are you thinking?" Peeta asked, chest heaving. "She was almost  _raped_  by that… that… that messed up bastard – and you still want her with them! Are you out of your mind?" He had begun to scream by the end of his tirade, and even Effie's attempt at placating him was nullified when she heard what had almost happened to Prim.

A chorus of  _what's_ ,  _when's_ , and  _are you alright's_  echoed from Effie, Cinna, and Portia as they turned to Prim, truly concerned for their little angel. Telling them that she was fine, Prim implored for Peeta to stop, telling him that she would be fine.

"No, Prim!" He said sharply, rounding to face her. "Don't you see? What if last night was a coincidence?" His palms descended on the table loudly and harshly, causing it and everything on top of it to shake. "What if he tries to force you again and you aren't so fortunate this time? You're still young, Prim. You're  _small,_  a girl, and you're so – so – so stupid! And you're  _weak_." He spat. "You won't stand against him and he'll easily get to you."

And as shallow as it would sound, the only bit of Peeta's rant that really cut through Prim was that he thought she was weak and stupid. Tears filled her eyes in an instant, and she found herself standing and gently placing her napkin over her half-eaten meal.

She avoided everyone's gaze, keeping her eyes on her feet as she spoke, "I… i-is that what I am to you then?  _Stupid and weak_? And what? You're going to protect me?" She closed her eyes, not wanting to cry in front of all her breakfast buddies. "You're going to go on that high horse of yours and try to keep me safe, am I right? You'll keep me alive during the games and then – if you succeed – we'll be the last two standing." She smirked, opening her eyes and meeting Peeta's surprised gaze head on. Traitorous tears slid down her cheeks as she snarled, "And then what? You'll kill me? You'll kill yourself? Probably kill yourself, am I right? Because then Katniss will see that you were a great guy and that she should have given you a chance. Well guess what,  _Peeta_ , Katniss never even gave you the time of day. She's probably with Gale right now – the person who deserves her. The one she's  _meant_  to be with." She paused, her words sinking in, but she was not done yet. "You're a jerk, Peeta. I don't know how you ever thought Katniss could love you."

Without another word, she spun on her heel and left everyone at the table to gawk and try to comprehend what they had just witnessed.

How easily moods changed and opinions were influenced. Where last night Prim felt utterly at peace and safe with Peeta, now she felt as if she were all alone and that her last shred of hope in the games had gone.

Peeta's eyes were wide and his mind and heart both agreed that he had screwed up.

What had he done?

* * *

**CATO**

After breakfast was his morning shower; and after that, Cato threw on the clothes that his stylist – Palma? Katya? Celia? He didn't really care about knowing names – had laid out for him. He dried his hair the old fashioned way, liking the soft towels that the Capitol provided, as he walked into the living room. He had been woken earlier to be informed of a meeting to be held with their district's representative – Achilee Doug.

Seeing that Lyme and Brutus had yet to arrive, Cato settled on the loveseat, positioning himself comfortably, with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He nodded at everyone that was already there, and rolled his eyes at the blatant flirting between Enobaria and Achilee. His eyes met Clove's, and he raised a brow at the smirk that was directed at him. What did she know that he didn't? His brows furrowed in thought.

"You want to say something, Clove?" He asked, getting annoyed as Clove's expression turned from smug to amused. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're going crazy." He said, hoping to get a reaction from her. Her laughter was not what he was looking for, and he glared at her. "Spit it out."

Clove pursed her lips, winking cheekily at Cato from her place on the couch, just to Enobaria's left. "Oh you know better than to order me around, Cato." She grinned, standing up to grab something to drink from the kitchen. "Besides, the things that I know…" She trailed off, walking to pass by him since that was the direction of the kitchen. Upon reaching him, she leaned down so that her lips were level with his ear. "They aren't the type of things that you should worry yourself about." She then grinned once more and left him to wonder what she meant. Oh yes, she knew how to play around. And if being on Primrose Everdeen's side meant getting the more humane side of Cato out, well, well, consider her an honorary District Twelve member.

She's playing with your mind, Cato repeatedly told himself mentally. He closed his eyes, irked. He never liked being kept out of anything, and Clove knew that better than most. To have her exploit it, meant that whatever she knew, he would want to know. But it also meant that it would come at a price. That, or he really had no use of it. Deciding with the latter, he let out a sigh, and opened his eyes just in time to find Lyme take Clove's place beside Enobaria and Brutus lean against the wall opposite Cato. The two stylists assigned to their district were talking to each other on another chair, and Cato couldn't help but roll his eyes at their obvious carelessness about the entire affair. All they cared about was getting their names out there as the stylist of District 2, seeing as they had the most chances of winning.

"Alright, now that we're all here," began Achilee as Clove took a seat on the arm of Cato's chair, a glass of juice in hand. "Since you two are being coached separately but going to stay together in the alliance, I need to be aware of some of your plans." He gave Cato and Clove a pointed look. "Who are the members of The Alliance?"

Cato stared at him blankly. "And why couldn't you have just asked Brutus, Enobaria, or Lyme about this?" Cato had to give Achilee some credit, he didn't miss a beat.

"Because that is the first among other questions, and I heard that there were adjustments and additions." Achilee replied evenly, raising an orange brow at Cato. "Now, answer."

Not wanting the argument to escalate, Clove interceded, "There's me, him, Marvel and Glimmer of District One, Pan and Vox of Four, and Primrose of Twelve." She took a sip of her drink, watching as Achilee raised a brow in confusion.

"From Twelve…?" The Capitol-born-and-raised citizen asked. "And you're sure of this?" He asked them, before shaking his head. "Who am I kidding? You do whatever you want. Now, the rules are still in place. You are to talk to no one else apart from those in The Alliance, and do what your coaches think is best for you." He fingered his neon green locks. "And make sure you don't show off  _too_  much." He rolled his eyes. "It wouldn't do to lay all your cards on the table. Overconfidence can easily be your demise."

A laugh caught everyone's attention, and they all turned to the normally stoic Lyme. "And here I am wondering why  _you_  aren't a coach, Achilee." She said with a rarely seen smile. Everyone seemed to be mesmerized at her show of pearly whites, and they were made aware of the dimple that had popped up on her cheek.

The meeting continued on with Cato and Clove basically tuning everything out, because they had covered it before, and they would be reminded once more before the interviews. When everyone departed and Cato and Clove were in the elevator on their way to the Training Rooms, Clove couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her.

"Who knew she actually still showed emotion?" She asked, a genuine smile on her face. She turned her gaze from the buttons to Cato, and she was glad when he returned her smile briefly. It was rare to ever see any real human emotion in him anymore. One that wasn't triggered by his sadistic side; and Clove was grateful for the times that she got even a glimpse of the Cato she once knew.

Arms crossed over his chest, Cato waited impatiently for them to arrive. He was looking forward to training because it would mean he got to spend time with his Rose. He was still confused by last night's events, but he was not going to let it get to him. His conversation with Clove flittered in his mind's eye, and he shook his head to get rid of it. Clove could keep her thoughts and opinions to herself. He wasn't going to let it mess with his way of life and how he thought of things.

The moment that they stepped out of the elevator, they looked around; Clove for the others within their alliance, and Cato for Rose. They found their objects of interest huddled together by the knife-throwing station, and Cato began to pick up his pace as he found that Marvel and Vox were too close to his Rose for his liking. Clove only rolled her eyes, easily picking up on Cato's thoughts. She may have been his best friend, but now that she was on Prim's side, she was going to start calling him caveman.

"Good morning, Rose." Cato slid up beside her and smirked when he felt her tense. "We'll be working together today, won't we? Why don't we start with something simple?" He placed an arm around her shoulders, looking up to send the group a quick glare. He didn't want them contradicting him. Screw whatever they had thought was planned or the day. He was the boss in their group, and they knew it. "Up for the Archery Station, my Rose?" Cato then wheeled her over to the said station, not bothering to wait for the others or hear her reply. Last night was a fluke, he reminded himself. Failure did not suit him – and public or private failure was still failure in his eyes.


	9. Training (Day 2; Part 1)

Chapter Nine – Training (Day 2; Part 1)

* * *

The moment that Prim and Peeta were stuck in the elevator, the former had already decided that she would go through with the entire charade her way. She ignored his apologetic looks and had resolved to ignore any of his attempts at any kind of apology too. She would prove to him that she was not weak. She would prove to him  _and_ her sister. She can stand on her own feet and fend for herself.

She stepped off of the elevator the moment the doors opened, and she made her way to the center of the room before taking a look around. She found the District One and District Four Careers already together, and she cautiously walked on over to them.

"Good morning," greeted Pan and Glimmer amicably, a gesture that Prim returned with a shy smile.

"We're just waiting for Two and then we'll start." Pan continued, "We'll be going through the stations as an entire group, so we'll be talking over the order in which we'll be doing things – more organized that way." She shrugged, and Prim had to wonder if the people before her didn't already know each other before the games. They were like well-oiled machines and they seemed so at ease with each other, despite the fact that they were going to end up killing the other at one point.

Glimmer, who was standing in front of Prim, smiled widely. "So Prim, you're a healer, right?" A nod from the younger girl prompted Glimmer to continue, "Where'd you learn?" The curiosity that shined in Glimmer's eyes was reflected in Pan's and Vox', while Marvel only rolled his eyes as he watched the other tributes that were excluded from their group.

"My mom was a healer." Prim replied. "She taught me some of the basics, and we usually treat the people at our district who couldn't afford going to the hospital." She flushed as Glimmer and Pan cooed over her, though Prim had the unsettling feeling that there was something else beneath the kindness that Glimmer portrayed. As a thought occurred to her, she opened her mouth to ask how they knew she was a healer when she saw someone in her peripheral vision stand by her side. She stiffened as the voice that was unmistakably Cato's rang in her ears.

Before she could even comprehend what was happening, she was being dragged away from the others, and she could feel her heart pounding against her chest as she wondered whether or not she should be fighting to get away. She sighed as she remembered Haymitch's words though. She would have to stick with his advice if she was going to prolong her life in the arena. While she understood that her chances of her winning were slim, she wasn't going down without a fight.

Cato stopped upon reaching the Archery Station. He pulled her closer to him, pressing her flush against his side. He could feel nearly every curve of her body against his, and he smirked. "Have you ever tried this, my Rose?" He asked her curiously, seriously doubting that she did. However, this was the games, and he understood that looks can be deceiving – especially if you looked half as beautiful as his Rose.

As Prim was pressed against him, a flashback of the previous night ran through her mind like a movie, and she couldn't help the way the blood rushed to her cheeks and how every hair on her body – that hadn't been removed by her prep team – stood on edge. When she was asked though, she had to wonder whether or not to tell the truth. She nibbled on her lower lip, her eyes resting on the different bows and arrows that were available to them.

"I've never killed before," breathed Prim subconsciously. It was the truth. As a healer, you were preoccupied with saving people's lives and helping them live. Death was never in Prim's agenda, and she only hoped that she would be killed in the arena before she ever had to take a life. For as high as she may make others think of her – with her skills and all – she was still but a girl. A little girl who can only heal and try to soothe people – she never once pictured herself taking a life.

Cato smirked and looked back, unsurprised to find that the rest of the members of The Alliance were already there. Having already worked with them yesterday, Cato understood who was good with which weapon. He met Glimmer's gaze and nodded towards the bull's eye in the distance.

"Why don't you work with Glimmer and see how that works out then?" He watched as Glimmer's eyes turned cold. She didn't like having to tutor someone. He could see the gears turning in her mind. She was fuming, angered at the fact that she was being ordered to teach some girl how to shoot properly. Knowing that her death – for really, who could stand a chance against the mighty Cato? – was at stake, she sighed, plastered a smile on her face, and hopped on over to Prim.

Cato backed away, leaving Prim in Glimmer's capable hands for the moment. He walked on over to the others, not once liking the way Marvel's eyes darted from his Rose to Clove. He made a show of standing by Clove and crossing his arms over his chest. There was something he couldn't comprehend in the District One male tribute's eyes, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Marvel, Vox," said he clearly, earning the attention of the two men. "You two work on your weapons." He turned to Clove and Pan, "You will be working with your weapons too. But in addition, you will be working with Rose." He frowned. "We don't need deadweight on our Alliance. Make it so that she can wield at least  _one_  weapon before the day is over." They all departed for their respective stations, leaving Cato with Clove.

Clove's smugness did not waver from the moment that they had left their floor. "If I hadn't known any better, I'd say you  _want_  her to survive." She said, brushing past him on her way to the knife throwing station. The way that Cato tensed only served to add to her amusement, and she understood that there was a possibility either Marvel or someone else from The Alliance may have caught on to some of her thoughts. She frowned. She needed to work on masking her emotions if she was going to stand a chance in the games. She took a knife, letting her gaze wander over to where Prim was, watching as Glimmer leaned close and seemed to be dishing out actual pointers. With a smile, Clove turned her attention back to the various targets before letting go of her weapon.

* * *

_Shink!_

The sound of the steel arrow grazing one of the steel panels made Prim wince. Just to prove what she already knew, she was hopeless when it came to archery. The closest she came to hitting the center of the target was the second to the largest circle, which would have been fine if it was intentional. But as she and Glimmer discovered, she couldn't pull it off for another time.

With an aggravated groan, Glimmer placed a hand on the top of Prim's head, making the younger girl feel extremely younger than she was. "Maybe another weapon is more for your form, Prim." She said with a small smile. Something in the girl's green orbs made Prim doubt the 'good friend' act that Glimmer was playing. She supposed it wasn't any of her business though, as she left the station. She looked around and found that all of the Careers seemed to be in their own stations.

Clove at knife throwing, Pan and Marvel at spear wielding, Glimmer in archery, and Vox and Cato at sword wielding.

Unsure of where to head to next, Prim settled for going to who was closest – Clove. This would be the hard bit, Prim knew. They were unaware that she had some experience at knife throwing, and she couldn't really control it as well as Clove could, and so she only prayed that she did not use up all of her skills. She scrunched up her nose in thought as she watched one target after another light up, and Clove hit them in the heart nearly every time. Her eyes widened as Clove finished, it seemed as if only one of the targets didn't have a knife sticking out of where its heart would've been. Instead of at the heart, the silver blade was sticking out of its head.

"Oh you're here," said Clove as she turned to find Prim. "Neat, huh?" She said, feeling proud of her accomplishment and Prim could only look at her in shock. Was this how the Careers were raised? To think of such things as mere child's play? The thought alone made Prim swallow the lump in her throat. Clove offered a hand to Prim, "Come on, I'll show you how it's done."

And so they went on that way, with Clove teaching Prim how to hold the knife properly to Prim giving a try. Out of the ten targets that lit, Prim had nailed five in the bull's eye, using only a part of the amount she usually used when she was gathering herbs. She thought it was understandable, seeing as the herbs were a lot thicker, and that the blade in her hand now was much sharper than the one at home – so even with just a fraction of her strength, she would still get good results.

"You're good." Clove's form did nothing to betray the suspicion that was raising in her mind. She was too good, and if any of the others found out – that is, assuming that they weren't watching Prim – then Clove understood that Prim would be one of the first to go once it was just them. If her suspicions were correct, then perhaps helping prolong Prim's life would be a good thing. "Are you sure you haven't done this before?" She asked jokingly.

Shooting her a polite smile and a slightly forced nod, Prim said, "I've held knives to work with herbs, but throwing them is…" She paused to think of her next word, " _Different_." Lying had never been her strong suit, because until that moment, there had been no reason for it. She only prayed that Clove was not some sort of lie-detecting person who can figure out whether or not she was being honest.

"Well, you've got talent then." Clove nodded, appeased by her answer. "You should consider showing that when you're up for your Private Session." With that, Clove returned to practicing by herself, leaving Prim to consider where she would go next.

From a distance, Cato had just finished sparring with one of Peacekeepers, and had drawn his attention to his Rose. He watched as she looked around, seemingly lost and confused as to where to go. He opened his mouth and was just about to move to get her when someone else caught her attention first. His eyes narrowed as he watched Marvel take a step back to give his Rose space to reach Pan. He didn't like the stare that Marvel was giving his Rose, and he made a mental note to himself to make sure to tell Marvel about it when he had the chance.

He hadn't realized that he had been staring for so long until Vox had come up beside him. The District Four tribute slyly tried to pry of the sword in Cato's hand, which resulted in Cato pushing him up against the wall with the blade by his neck.

"You think you can one-up me,  _four_?" He seethed, eyes flashing dangerously. Cato didn't want anyone to doubt that  _he_  was the force to be reckoned with. With Clove's horrible implications and his own failure last night, he needed to prove to himself and everyone around him that he was no softy. He was  _brutal bloody Cato_ , and he wanted to make sure that they knew that. Not even The Alliance was safe from him.

Prim's head turned as a commotion was heard, and her gasp was echoed by none as she watched Cato nearly kill a member of The Alliance. She took a step back without noticing it, and she found herself stepping on someone's foot by accident. Flustered, she spun around to find that it was Marvel looking at her with that unreadable look on his face once more. Goosebumps ran down her spine as she backed away.

"I-I'm s-sorry." She stammered, trying to even out her breathing. She could hear the Peacekeepers' footsteps as they walked over to the two Careers and pried them off of each other. Closing her eyes, Prim placed a hand over her heart to calm it – and herself – down.

"It's fine," said Pan, a pleasant smile on her face. The smile revealed her dimpled cheeks, and Prim couldn't help but think her pretty. "Right Marvel?" She asked, and earned a nod from the quiet boy. She then waved Prim over. "So Prim, have you ever tried using spears?" She asked conversationally, as if using spears as a weapon to kill was a normal occurrence for everyone. And Prim supposed that for the Careers, it was. They were raised with the mindset of a brutal and coldblooded killer – someone who wouldn't bat an eye at killing.

And just like with Archery, Prim, Pan, and Marvel found that Prim had no future in wielding a spear. She could throw it alright, but could never hit within the designated spot of her targets. The best result that she had was when she hit one in the head, and only because it was standing right in front of her within a radius of six feet.

She was just about to try once more when everyone was called to Lunch. Prim had to do a double take as she remembered lunch from the day before. She would have to sit by Peeta, and she couldn't really handle being around him more than she had to. She only hoped that he didn't try to talk to her while they had their meal.

" _What if he tries to force you again and you aren't so fortunate this time? You're still young, Prim. You're small, a girl, and you're so – so – so stupid! And you're_ weak _."_

Stupid and weak.

That's what he thought of her.

She was by no means a genius, but she wasn't entirely clueless either. She knew from the beginning that regaining her mother from her depression would be hard. Unlike her sister though, Prim was an optimist, and so did everything she could to keep her mother going and tried her best to pull her out of it. And perhaps she didn't go around yelling that she wasn't some small inexperienced child, but it hadn't exactly crossed her mind that anyone actually thought she was unintelligent!

It had hurt a lot to be called such hurtful words by someone you trusted. Perhaps she had been wrong to put Peeta on a pedestal and think that maybe, just maybe, he was unlike everyone else. That he would see her as more than a little girl from the Seam in District Twelve who lost her father and couldn't do anything without her sister and mother. She had gained this warped vision of him thinking of her as an equal… _as a friend_. But she had been wrong. She could see all his actions for what it was now. She may have been young, but she had to grow up fast because of circumstance, and that was something Peeta may never understand.

Katniss was not the only one burdened when their father died. While she was out hunting with Gale, Prim had to be at home worrying about her, caring for their mother, studying, and trying to help out those in the Seam who came for treatment. And if she was at school, she would be trying to balance school with keeping her mind from wandering to her mother, her deceased father, the patients she could be helping, and having a somewhat normal life by befriending other kids her age.

At one point, Prim had envied Katniss. Her older sister had Gale to share everything with. And while Prim supposed that there was Rory, they were both busy fussing over their own families. She had to make sure her mother hadn't wondered off, and he had to be there to care for his younger siblings while Gale and his mother worked. But Prim didn't hold a grudge against Katniss. She couldn't fault her sister for having at least some sort of leeway when it came to their problems. It was good to know that someone was looking out for Katniss other than Prim and herself.

Prim watched as everyone filed in, and she caught Peeta's eyes briefly before she looked away. She didn't want to see him, much less speak to him. She wasn't always one to hold a grudge, but she also wasn't one to easily trust in someone. Even when her mother had began to show signs of recovery, Prim remained on edge, though she made sure not to let Katniss in on it. It was better to have Katniss thinking that she was still very much dependent on her mother, and hadn't had thoughts of taking the healing practice into her own hands. Her older sister had enough on her plate, after all.

"We should go," said someone beside Prim, and she turned to find that it was a young girl with brown skin and eyes the color of hot chocolate. Her curly hair was pulled back by a seemingly complicated type of braid work, and it took a while for Prim to remember that she had yet to reply. She looked around first, unsure of whether or not it was alright for her to be talking and associating herself with someone else. She got her answer as Cato's tall person cast a shadow over Rue.

"You shouldn't have kept us waiting, Rose." Cato said, taking Prim's arm and pulling, not waiting for her to even utter a single syllable. Prim sent Rue an apologetic smile as she mouthed an apology, and she was glad when Rue gave her a tightlipped smile and a nod of understanding.

When they were halfway to the door, Prim tugged at the arm that Cato was holding. His grip on her was firm and she knew that she would earn another bruise from it. When he didn't give in, she tried again, which resulted in him turning around to face her, his eyes narrowed and irritation radiating off of him in waves.

Cato couldn't understand why he was all over the place. He wasn't always that easy to rile up, and he didn't like it one bit. The brief stint earlier was another fluke, he reminded himself as he stared into his Rose's frightened eyes. He raised a hand to caress her cheek softly and took a calming breath in when she flinched away from his touch.

"You're mine, Rose.  _My own personal angel_." He gave her a searing kiss, knowing that there was no one other than the Peacekeepers in the Training Room with them. When he pulled back, he saw that her eyes were just fluttering open, and he smirked. "Remember that, okay?" He then continued on, her arm still in his tight grip. "You'll be working with me for the rest of the day."

As they entered the lunch room, he bent down to whisper in her ear, "I want you to ignore  _Peeta_. I don't know what happened and why you two aren't so buddy-buddy now, but  _I like it_. And I want things to stay that way. So any attempt he makes, shoot it down." He stood straighter, a smirk on his lips. "The things we talked about last night are still in place,  _my Rose_."

Prim nodded stiffly before making her way to her assigned seat.


	10. Training (Day 2; Part 2)

Chapter Ten – Training (Day 2; Part 2)

* * *

" _You're going to join our alliance and stay away from him." He smirked. "Or do you want him to die the moment that he steps off that platform when we get to the arena?"_

Cato's words from the previous night were repeatedly making rounds in Prim's mind as she picked at her food, occasionally placing some in her mouth and eating. She could see from her peripheral that Peeta glanced her way often, and she did her best to ignore him. When she reached for her glass however, her hand brushed against Peeta's, who was reaching over to grab the bowl in front of her. She gazed up, not to Peeta, but to Cato, whose eyes met hers head on.

She was quick to retract her hand, looking away from Cato and leaving Peeta to sigh.

Peeta's eyes moved to Cato and he seethed as he saw the smug smirk on the District Two Tribute's face. He clenched his jaw, not liking the way things were going on between him and Prim. This was not his plan. But really, how realistic had he been? She had been right when she had yelled at him earlier. He had been idealistic to think that he could protect her – but he couldn't help but be surprised at the intelligence that she possessed.

Peeta wondered if Katniss would have easily figured him out if she had been in Prim's place. But then again, he found himself thinking, if Prim had let Katniss volunteer, he wouldn't be in this mess, because Katniss wouldn't have given the image of being unable to protect herself, so the Careers would've let her slip by, under the radar. He chastised himself for indirectly blaming the little blonde girl sitting beside him. This wasn't her fault. If anything, she was the only good thing here, and that would be ruined by the one person Peeta could openly admit to loathing.

He found his gaze returning to Prim, and he longed the easy banter they had from yesterday. He even missed how she felt in his arms last night and earlier. He disliked that they had gone from being playful and friendly to cold and complete strangers within just a span of a couple of hours, and he wanted nothing more than to fix things. When she saw her set her hand by her plate, her fork in hand, he took it as an opportunity.

Placing his much larger hand over hers, he whispered, "Can we talk?"

Swallowing the last bit of soup, Prim closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She didn't want to cause a scene, and she hoped that Peeta didn't, either. She tugged at her hand once, trying to get Peeta's hand off of hers. When he didn't budge, she tried again, only to result in him tightening his hold. She sighed, hissing under her breath. This won't end well, she knew it.

"I don't  _want_  to talk to you." She spat, loud enough for only Peeta to hear. "You've made it clear what you want and think, I don't think we need to know anything else about each other." Peeta's hold on her tightened even more, and she frowned. How could she get out of this?

Aware of her current view of him, Peeta bent his head, intent on talking to her, but stopped when someone took his attention.

"Let go of her."

Peeta's eyes moved from Prim to Cato, who was seething, eyes narrowed and staring straight into his own. Not planning on backing down, Peeta intertwined his and Prim's fingers, flashing a satisfied smirk when Cato growled in response.

"And if I don't?" He taunted, wondering just how riled up Cato would get. He was taken by surprise when Cato leaned over, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and pulled him up, a steak knife pressed against his neck.

Prim gasped, "Cato!" She placed a hand on Peeta's shoulder as the other held Cato's hand that was holding the knife. "Don't…" She begged, trying to catch his rage-filled eyes. When his gaze finally left Peeta, she relaxed a bit. "Please," said she, tightening her hold on Cato's hand and slowly pulling it away from Peeta. "Not…" She paused, using her other hand to push Peeta back to his seat. She didn't want to continue with her train of thought, but she feared that none of the two would back down if she didn't. "Not  _now_." She finally breathed, watching as they both sat back in their seats.

Cato rolled his eyes as the useless Peacekeepers conspicuously went back to their stations. His gaze stayed locked on his Rose, who kept her gaze down for the rest of the meal. His eyes narrowed as he felt Twelve's glare on him, and he turned to send him a cold look of his own. The very one that Clove had once described as maniacal, deranged, and down-right frightening. He threw in his smug smirk for good measure, and was delighted to find Twelve so affected by it as he let a stony expression take over his features.

Not a fan of their display, Prim finished her meal quickly and left the dining room. As entangled as she was in the web of craziness that had bound her with the Careers, she wasn't going to make it easy for them to control her. She would play obedient and docile when needed, but she will find times when she would break free.

Walking straight to the Tree Climbing Station, Prim sent a smile the teacher's way. The teacher, a man in his late twenties, walked on over to her and began to talk her through the basics of tree climbing. She smiled and nodded as he spoke, finding herself lost in his words and forgetting earlier events. When he suddenly stopped speaking though, Prim frowned, but understood that it only meant one thing – Cato was behind her once more.

As if on cue, Cato's voice floated from behind Prim, "And what did I say earlier, Rose? Who were you going to be with for the rest of the day?" Turning to face him, Prim swallowed the lump in her throat as she was met with his sickly sweet smile. If she still had hair on her body, it would've stood in attention right about now. Cato was simply  _that_  unnerving. "Now, why don't we go to my personal favorite station?" He said, before pulling her along once more. She winced as he barely missed the bruise on her arm from earlier.

How she wanted to get away – to just pull her arm out of his grasp and run away; from him, from the games, from the Capitol. But she couldn't. Just like everyone in the Training Room with her, she was just an ant in the grand scheme of things. She was a toy in the Capitol's eyes; a toy that they could dispose of when they saw fit, and there was nothing she could do about it.

When they came to a stop at the sword wielding station, Cato directed Prim to the selection of swords available. He placed either hand on either of her shoulders as he stood behind her, leaning forward slightly so his chin hovered over her head.

"Now, you should get a feel for which sword you think would suit you best." He explained calmly. He had been irritated earlier when he saw that man talking to his Rose. He gave her a soft push, "Go on – touch one."

Prim's shaky hand reached out to caress the hilt of one of the smaller swords that were more for her size as opposed to the long and wide ones that were obviously built for those closer to Cato's stature. She ran the tips of her fingers along the blade, and she paused upon settling on one of the medium sized swords. Taking it off of the rack carefully, she turned to Cato for her next instructions, despite hating the feeling of being so utterly dependent on him.

"Good," said Cato with an amused smile. "Now come here and I'll teach you some of the basics."

And so he did. They spent the remaining three hours of the day going through all that Cato considered was basic. By the end of it, Prim could hold her own against one of the Peacekeepers, and she could disarm someone who had either no experience or just really sucked at using a sword.

Prim had been surprised and relieved to take note that he made no sexual-related predatory move on her while they were working on her non-existent swordsmanship skills. None of the Peacekeepers made any move to keep him away from her though, something that Prim wished wasn't the case.

When they finished, Cato took Prim's arm once again and led her to the elevators, seeing as training for the day was over – for everyone.

"When you aren't training, you'll be spending your time with me, at my floor. Any time spent with  _your friend_ could be time spent doing… better things." Cato said, a small smirk appearing on his face at the last few words. Seeing Prim's blush and feeling her stiffen up in his grip, Cato laughed.

Prim's eyes widened upon hearing the foreign sound of Cato's laughter. She didn't even think someone like him would be capable of such a  _humane_  thing. She watched, transfixed, as his eyes got smaller and the corner of his lips lifted up and his mouth opened to reveal rows of shining white teeth. The sound he made was a deep rumble that seemed to bubble up from his throat. It was so surreal to be with a Career – much less a laughing one!

When he stopped, Prim found that there was a ringing in her ears that came from the abrupt stop of hearing something she liked. She felt her whole face heat up at the thought. She had liked his laugh! She found herself staring at Cato's now blank face. He seemed to be deep in thought, and she wondered just what was going through his head.

Cato straightened himself up. It was odd. He had started laughing at her expense, and then he began to have flashbacks of all the times that he had laughed in his life. Even as he tried to keep his composure, his mind was beginning to wander, and he tightened his grip on his Rose's arm subconsciously. Distractions weren't allowed in the games. It would only get him killed, and he had a feeling that not having Primrose Everdeen with him during the games would be worse than not having her body now. The thought left much to be thought about. He needed to sort through the jumbled mess that was his thoughts soon.

They arrived at the second floor, and Cato stepped out and urged his Rose to follow. He motioned to the unoccupied seats in the living area with one hand as he left her to change into more comfortable clothes than his training outfit. When he met an Avox on his way to his room, he ordered the woman to bring his guest a decent set of clothes to change into.

Cato entered the living area minutes later to find that Prim had donned on a plain white tee shirt and sweatpants. He never thought he would find himself appreciating a woman wearing a pair of unflattering baggy sweatpants. He paused. She was no woman – she was a mere girl! And sweatpants were horrible and should only be worn by men or other people who had no figure at all. His gaze hardened as he eyed the pants distastefully. Didn't she know that she had to look good for him? She was his, and he owned nothing less than the best that there was!

Taking a seat by her side, he sat comfortably on the plush sofa.

He watched her from the corner of his eye; saw the way her cheeks flushed a rosy pink, noticed that on her arm were bruises that could've only come from all the times that he had held her, took in how she seemed to be trying to keep her breathing level, and even saw the way her bright sky blue eyes briefly fluttered to watch him too.

"Why me?" Prim found herself asking before she could properly process what had tumbled out of her mouth. She placed a hand against her lips, and she made sure to look away, so that he wouldn't see the warm blush that had covered her entire face. She wouldn't be surprised if she looked like a tomato in that moment, but all she really cared about was staying alive as her heart pounded against her chest. What if he snapped and got angry with her? She wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle and for the ground to swallow her whole.

Cato raised a brow at the weird little girl by his side. There she went, asking a question and then regretting asking it. He had been raised to regret only one thing – failure. Other than that, it was better if you shut off your emotions, but Cato hadn't always been one for following rules. A lot of people went to great lengths to ensure that Cato became a ruthless killing machine that the district and his family could be proud of. It wasn't normal for him to see regret in someone's eyes for a reason that didn't connect to some type of failure. Perhaps she failed at keeping her mouth shut? He abruptly let go of his Rose's hand.

"Why  _not_  you?" He shot back, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He didn't quite understand where their conversation was heading, which was so unusual for him, since he was used to his and Clove's banter; which, while fun, was a bit predictable. They always somehow ended up with either one of them leaving or one of them hitting the other. Either way, he found that his talks with Clove were always fruitful in one way or another.

Prim didn't miss a beat as her thoughts came pouring out as if the proverbial floodgates had been opened, "Glimmer is more beautiful than I am. Pan seems to have a good head on her shoulders, and she probably has more experience with all that…" She blushed. " _Stuff_. And then there's Clove, who you must've known for a while now. You two seem to be comfortable with each other and would definitely look great together. There's also all the other girls in the games. I've seen that the girl from Three is just an inch taller than me and has beautiful brown hair. But somehow you seem to think that taunting me and making my life miserable is the most fun you'd have, so I just want to know – WHY ME? Is it because I'm small and weak? Are you going to play with me so that you could easily kill me when we get to the arena? Are you that cruel? Don't you care at all?"

And then it began to register just what had transpired while Prim had gone off on her little rant.

In her tirade, Prim had rounded on him and had pinned him with the intensity of her glare. Her bright blue eyes were narrowed and held their own against his surprised hazel eyes, and Cato was surprised to find that his mouth had somehow quirked up in amusement without his consent. Her hands were resting against his chest after having pounded on it while she was speaking, and she could feel his heartbeat against her fist even without meaning to. Her breathing was coming out in small, shallow puffs, and Cato found that he just couldn't resist as he swooped in.

Is that what she thought of him? That he was some sick and twisted monster who preyed on little girls for fun? But then again, hadn't Clove called him something along those lines as well? When he had raped that girl and injured a handful of other people, he supposed that the names were fitting. He was a monster. But that didn't mean he like being called one – however indirectly. And to think! His Rose – his own property! – thought so lowly and so negatively of him… Perhaps threatening her  _friend_  was over the top, but she had to understand that any mistakes on her part had consequences, and he wouldn't hesitate in pushing through with his threats. He would have her by his side until the end – whether she liked it or not!

His hand found the back of her neck while his other arm went around her waist and pulled her close. His lips found hers, and he found his eyes closing as he kissed her. Prim, on her part, sat still, frozen. She watched as his eyes fell close, and she found herself kissing back. Her hands rose to rest on his shoulders, and then up to tangle themselves in his hair. Her eyes fell shut on their own accord, and she found herself declining and lying on her back with Cato on top of her.

When they finally pulled away, Cato's forehead rested against hers as he hovered over her. When their eyes met, both took note of the dilated pupils and the darker hued irises. Cato was pleased to see he wasn't the only one who felt the attraction now. He knew that perhaps she would never like him, but at least her body seemed to have responded to him.

Stuck in their own worlds, Prim and Cato didn't realize that someone had stumbled upon them in the rather intimate moment.

* * *

Clove had always stayed in her room after every training session, only leaving to eat, attend a meeting, or talk to Cato or Enobaria. She had no intention of striking up conversation with Brutus, who only focused on Cato, or Lyme, whose sporadic thought processes disturbed her. She had heard Cato's arrival earlier, when he had ordered some poor Avox to do his bidding, though she couldn't figure out what it was that he ordered the Avox to do, the distinct rumble of his voice made it clear that it was him. She had wanted to talk to him ever since she found that there was something between him and Prim, but could never find the time to since he was always with her. His little display at lunch had proven to Clove just how unhinged Cato had grown.

Memories of better times flashed through her mind, and Clove debated whether or not to get out of her room and see what her ex was up to. That was always fun. With a smile and no expectations, Clove skipped out of her room and headed for the living area.

What she saw made her pause before she even made it entirely into the room.

It was clear when they broke away that they weren't aware of her appearance yet, something that she may or may not point out to Cato later on. But as she saw the passion passing between them with just their looks alone – and their bodies weren't exactly miles apart either, she thought to herself with a roll of her eyes – she couldn't help the bittersweet feeling that hummed within her as she swiftly made her way back to her room. It would be best for everyone involved if she didn't ruin their… _moment_. Her emotions washed over her in waves, and she had to sit on her bed to really just think things through.

 _Jealousy_ ; She was by no means jealous of Prim for being with Cato –  _or whatever it was they were actually doing_ – more on the fact that they had found someone in each other. It was something that Clove had always wanted, like every other girl. She wanted to fall in love, get married, have children… after winning the Hunger Games, of course. When she and Cato had gotten together, she had thought she had found it. He was a wonderful man; intelligent, strong, brave, and handsome. But he lacked one key thing that told Clove and a handful of people that the day Cato settled down would be something they would have to see for themselves. He did not have the necessary amount of humanity and sanity to be in a relationship. He had snapped once in their year of being together – it had ended up with both of them getting injured. And before that, she had heard of the rumors; him injuring some of the younger students that didn't show him respect, getting into a fight with an older student over his sword, defending his family's honor, rape, abuse, and – she shuddered to even think about it – murder.

So yes, it was safe to say that Clove was not jealous of Prim for being Cato's new girlfriend/toy/obsession. She was just jealous to see that Cato had someone while she had no one. So much for being a team, she thought with a roll of her eyes.

 _Happiness_ ; Despite all of Cato's shortcomings and moments of insanity, she truly was happy for him. Between everyone that she knew, he deserved happiness more than anyone. And perhaps he himself didn't know it yet, but Prim brought out a spark within him that Clove hadn't seen in ages. A small smile found Clove's lips at the thought. Maybe there was hope for the Cato she once knew to return. The little girl with the blonde hair and blue eyes may just be the key to giving Cato the good sense and compassion he had lost. The prospect of it made Clove want to go out and watch their story unfold; it was already quite obvious that Cato felt protective of the girl he had dubbed  _his Rose_ , which basically meant he cared for the girl to an extent. Clove had never recalled of him being that possessive over any of his past conquests – even her! It only had Clove wondering if there was a chance that Prim would be able to return the sentiment.

Would a girl so innocent and pure find the lost and broken boy that Clove, herself, had only met a handful of times before? Will Prim be able to see through his anger and brutality that she would be able to dig deep enough to uncover the raw and real side of him? That was a lot to ask, Clove knew, but she couldn't help but hope that Prim did. It may take a miracle, but perhaps the miracle would come with the name Primrose Everdeen.

 _Disappointment_ ; Why now? Why did Cato have to find someone to have something with as they were preparing for The Hunger Games? Why couldn't he have just settled for not going gaga over a girl as they prepared to beat the shit out of each other and then see who gets declared the victor? If he won – which she knew was a huge possibility – he could've had any girl he wanted. They had heard of Finnick Odair and his various escapades. Clove knew without a doubt that Cato could do it too if he wanted. But no! He just had to go off and find himself attracted to a girl three years his junior and actually have audacity to pursue her and steal her from her friend. If the thing between them did progress into something real and something more, Clove wouldn't know what to do with herself.

She was a hopeless romantic at heart, and if they did fall in love and then were thrown into the games, she didn't know what she'd do. She couldn't bear the thought of killing someone knowing that their love was just close by. And a dreaded thought passed in her mind – what if it was just the three of them left? She and Cato had agreed to make it as painless as possible for the other, should it come to that, but then there came the thought of Prim. Over the few hours that she had spent with the girl, she found that female District Twelve tribute was just too damn like-able. And maybe she could kill her without looking, but what would that make her? A victor who didn't give her dearest friend a chance at love?

The thought made her frown, and she sighed heavily.

"This is the fucking Hunger Games, Clove." She told herself as she lay on the bed, hands resting on her tummy idly. "Twenty-four go in and only one gets out. And if they do decide to get lovey-dovey, then killing them would be a favor for them. At least they can see each other in the afterlife." She paused. "Why the fuck am I talking to myself?"

"Clove."

Cato's voice was clear from the other side of her closed door, and the girl in question barely raised any part of her body as acknowledgement. She let him in, knowing that he wanted to talk just by his tone. She was looking forward to this conversation and dreading it at the same time, for some reason.


	11. The Talk

Chapter Eleven – The Talk

* * *

They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity, with his muscled form lingering over her petite one using only his arms as support. Their foreheads were still resting against each other as their breaths mingled into one between them. Nothing was spoken as they simply held the other's intense stare. For a moment, both parties found themselves unable to speak.

It was Prim who broke their trance-like state.

"You still haven't answered my question," pointed Prim out with a blush. She tried to frown, but ended up pouting instead, an occurrence that had a corner of Cato's lips quirking up. He inhaled deeply, taking in her scent, before pushing himself off of her.

As he stood, Prim couldn't help but feel oddly empty as she kept her gaze on the area he had vacated. The thought had her eyes widening. What was wrong with her? This was not something she wanted to partake in! Her hormones had gotten the better of her earlier… and last night too! She was a girl in puberty, after all. She was sure that even if another male had replaced Cato that she would've probably acted the same. Her eyes closed as she sat up. Her head found solace in her hands as she buried her face in them. The problem was, deep down, she knew that it wasn't entirely true. Perhaps if you had replaced Cato with Peeta, she would have done the same – provided the little argument earlier hadn't happened. But then as she tried to see  _the scenes_  between her and Cato happening with her and the other tributes, she found herself imagining that she would have left much, much earlier than she had with the District Two Tribute.

"Lyme wanted you in the Alliance." Cato said, back to her despite his body signing for him to face her, take her, and lock her up to keep her all to himself. "The first moment she had set her eyes on you, she knew you were a healer, and we didn't want you going around patching up the people we might miss." His hands found solace in his pants' pockets, and in the pit of his stomach, he knew that he didn't like the bareness he felt. He liked the way her hair had felt in his hands, and he imagined that a little tug would have had her arching towards him, showing him the expanse of her neck – Cato closed his eyes. There was no need for such thoughts at the moment. As wonderful as it was to see her – even if it was only in his mind – she had asked a question and now he had given an answer, though he knew that it wasn't the one she was looking for.

Prim's head snapped upwards, a glare on her face as she fixated on his tall and brawny figure. That did nothing to answer her question at all! Yes, it answered why they wanted her in The Alliance, but it didn't answer why she was in this unwanted position of being Cato's – and that's where she paused. What was she exactly? His toy? Something to amuse himself with before the games? The thought scared and angered her all at the same time, and she visibly shook as she fought to lash out at him. He overpowered her, and there was no doubt that he wouldn't hesitate to hit her should it come to that. Clenching her hands into fists as they rested on her lap, she let out a frustrated sigh.

"Will you  _please_  look at me?" She asked, blonde eyebrows drawn together in dissatisfaction. When he made no move, she continued still, "All I want to know is why – out of twelve girls – I seem to have become your…  _plaything_?" The distaste dripped off of the last word like a waterfall, and she watched as he slowly turned his head around, his eyes blank and empty of emotion. She feared the worst. Why couldn't she have just kept her mouth shut? She's played the silent and nice girl before! When you have Katniss as a sister, you tend to realize that voicing out your thoughts aren't always the best idea. Prim wanted nothing more than to take it all back, but she understood that he wouldn't let that happen.

"The thing with that question,  _Rose_ ," Cato's eyes remained locked on the ground as he spoke. He couldn't do it. He couldn't look into her eyes; her bright blue eyes that accused him of being a heartless and cruel monster, and then tell her what he had thought of the first time he laid his eyes on her. "Is that it is so easy to answer," continued he. "Why else do you think I have chosen you? Yes, everyone else looked good, but they didn't radiate the same  _purity_  that you do." He said honestly, before he smirked. "I remember seeing you at The Reaping and thinking how  _sweet and innocent_  you looked. Even then, I wanted you – Wanted to see how your bare skin would feel against mine, and how your eyes would look darkened with lust." He smiled maniacally, and Prim shuddered at the sight.

The way he spoke of his thoughts when he first saw her disturbed her. It made her want to run out of the room and never come back, and want to vomit all at the same time; it wasn't the best feeling in the world. She thought it was rather disgusting and troubled, the way his mind seemed to work, and she had to wonder how such an unstable person was able to walk around freely. Good thing he was in the games then! She found herself thinking. At least then someone would get rid of him, she paused, and even her breath caught in her throat as a thought crossed her mind;  _unless he wins_.

His hazel eyes moved up to meet her gaze, and he let out a small grunt when he saw her flinch. A small smile graced his lips, "Does that answer your question, Rose?" He turned around fully, his body facing hers, their eyes still locked. When she nodded mutely, Cato found himself at a loss. He hadn't exactly understood what he wanted to happen while she was here. All he had been thinking when he decided that she would be by their side all the time was that he didn't want her anywhere else.

The thought had him furrowing his brows. Why was he so possessive of her? He had never been this domineering when he was with Clove. Because really, Clove was the only person that he considered he had an actual relationship with. He had never counted relationships that had only lasted a couple of weeks.

Prim anxiously waited to see if he had anything else to say –  _or do_  – but as she saw that he seemed to be looking at her without actually seeing her, she understood that he was somewhere else, seeing something else. And she found herself curious. What could possibly be going through his mind? Would he be bothered if she asked? Did she even have the right to ask? His answer from her previous question had only served to freak her out, what if his thoughts now were worse? She shuddered to even imagine what could possibly be going through the older tribute's mind. She couldn't really see what else to do besides talk, and so she racked her brain for any good topics. She smiled upon settling on one.

"How did you meet Clove?" She asked curiously, finally having relaxed quite a bit upon noticing that Cato was making no move to enter her personal space – he had even taken a seat on the loveseat nearby! She met his confused gaze and smiled encouragingly, even if she was still a bit shaken up by everything that's happened between them. Yes, she wanted to leave, but she wouldn't risk his anger.

Cato had never been one to be able to read people's emotions with their eyes, but when it came to his Rose's, it seemed as if her eyes spoke to him – more so than her body or her words did. And so when he saw the hesitance mixed with the curiosity, he couldn't help but be a little confused. Was she really making conversation with him despite all that he's put her through within the forty-eight hours of knowing her?

"When you live in a District like ours," he began. "Usually, you learn to use weapons before you learn to write."

_SHINK!_

_The silver knife sunk into its stuffed target, and an eight year old Cato Hadwell looked for the source of the deadly weapon. He was impressed, and wanted to tell whoever it was that had thrown the knife just that. He, himself, wasn't so bad at his own weapon – sword-fighting. His eyes fell upon a little girl who looked to be about his age, and he found his eyes widening. Had she thrown the knife? He found himself leaving his mother's side. She was busy talking to one of her friends, which really left Cato to amuse himself._

" _You're pretty good." Cato said honestly, smiling at the girl, flashing his pearly whites. He tucked his hands into his pockets, and watched as the girl gave him one glance, nodded, and then went on to the target to retrieve her knife. He frowned. That was rude! He waited for her to come back before he tried to strike up conversation once more. "Have you been practicing for long?"_

_The girl, whose black hair was tied up in a ponytail and brown eyes were trained on the target, spared Cato a glance. It looked like she wasn't really in the mood for company, and Cato had gone and disrupted her. Having been raised to be courteous, she decided to talk to the boy. Maybe he would leave her alone if she indulged him for a bit._

" _I started two months ago, when I turned seven." She replied curtly, before turning back to throwing knives. When he didn't leave, she sighed. What was wrong with this boy? Cato, on the other hand, was simply glad that she spoke to him!_

" _You're really good." He said again, and this time the little girl just raised a brow at him. Was he blind? She couldn't even hit the bull's eye! She only got as close as the second to the largest circle. "Do you live close by?"_

_The girl paused, meeting the boy's inquisitive hazel eyes. She took note of his blonde hair and chubby cheeks, before her gaze moved to her mom, who was talking animatedly with a beautiful tall woman who had blonde hair too._

_Returning her attention to the boy, she pointed to the blonde woman and asked, "Is she your mom?" Cato nodded, and then she pointed at the humble estate behind her. "That's my house, so you're in my lawn." She pointed out bluntly, though Cato didn't seem at all deterred by this. She threw another knife, hitting four inches closer to the bull's eyes this time._

" _I'm Cato." He said, extending a hand. "Hadwell," added he thoughtfully. "Cato Hadwell."_

_Her brown eyes moved from his outstretched hand, to his face, to the two women talking a few meters away. Her mother had said that she had a friend who had a kid around her age. She never thought that the child would have been a boy!_

_Cautiously, she shook his hand._

" _My name's Clove Kentley." She said, before continuing to ignore the boy's presence. She would really prefer it if the boy just left her alone. She had better things to do – like practice her knife-throwing!_

Prim had leaned forward quite a bit during his short tale. Somehow, she hadn't expected that. She had thought that Clove had always been the lighter half of the two, but from what Cato's told her, it was quite the opposite. More questions entered her mind as a result; what happened? Why'd they switch roles? Why'd he volunteer when he knew that he would be fighting against Clove?

"Anything else you'd like to know?" Cato asked with a raised brow, startling Prim and shaking her from her thoughts. He thought her beautiful as her eyes slowly came into focus, and he couldn't help but frown as he felt that weird feeling in the pit of his stomach once more. He glanced at the clock, not wanting to keep his eyes on her anymore. If all the districts followed the same routine, than they had half an hour until dinner. Should he let her go now? Perhaps she still had to discuss things with her mentor? After all, Haymitch Abernathy had been the one to ask for her to join The Alliance. Wait, Cato's eyes shifted uneasily as he took a quick glance at the girl in the room with him. Did she know that Haymitch had approached Brutus about The Alliance?

He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself when she spoke.

"Would it be possible," She began, uncertainty lacing her voice. "Would it be possible to make it so that Peeta's safety is ensured in the arena?" She waited a heartbeat for any reaction from him, her eyes trailed on her feet. But so as not to have any misunderstanding, she continued on to explain, "I-I… I don't mean that you shouldn't kill him or anything – because I'm sure you or one of the others will – but I just…" She inhaled and exhaled slowly. "I'm willing to do  _anything_ ," she cringed at the thought despite the honesty in her words. What would he have her do? "So long as you can make it so that you and the others don't hunt him down…"

" _I'd want to leave this place if I could." Peeta said suddenly. "As much as I love the food, I'd rather not have to kill to survive. It makes me feel as if I'm no better than an animal – some insignificant beast they could just capture and chuck into an arena to fight with other animals." He paused, burying his face in the palm of his hands. "It's barbaric."_

Her and Peeta's conversation two days ago rang in her mind like a bell telling her that she was doing the right thing. As much as she felt that her outburst with him was justified, she still believed that he was indeed one of the better people in the games. And when she died, she hoped that Peeta would be able to bring another Victory to District Twelve. Maybe she was being selfless, but Prim actually thought that she was doing it because it's what Katniss would've done. Especially since she had gotten to know Peeta rather well in the days that they were together. Prim understood with every fiber of her being that she was doing as her wonderful sister would have done – protect those one cared about.

Perhaps Cato had underestimated the  _bond_  that his Rose and Twelve shared. He had thought that with the coldness she exhibited with the boy earlier, Rose was finally his. Her plea, however, told him that he was wrong. She did – to some extent –  _care_  for that boy, and Cato could only frown as his fists clenched.

"Stay away from him." He said simply. " _Anything_  I say, after all."

Surprised and grateful, Prim smiled a genuine smile as she looked up to meet his eyes. Her bright blue hues sparkled with delight and gratitude, and Cato found himself unable to tear his gaze away. He was mesmerized by the sight – had she always had such a carefree smile?

"W-would it be alright if I l-left now?" She asked shyly, not wanting to provoke him in any way. She wanted to leave before anything else happened, and she thought that perhaps leaving him while he's in a mood that was akin to being docile, she would get away with it. She mentally berated herself for stuttering though, and hoped that he would just either ignore it or find some twisted delight in it. Either way, she hoped that he wouldn't do anything to her. Their kisses came to the forefront of her mind like sunlight blistering down on a hot summer day, and she found her entire body heating up, her cheeks particularly being the warmest.

Amusement filled Cato at her stammer and blush, but there was an underlying bit of disappointment in his gut too. Was he truly that frightening? And then he closed his eyes in irritation, massaging his temples. That was his edge in the games. He was threatening and frightening. He was  _brutal, bloody Cato_.

The reminder of his nickname back at the academy got him back on track. His unhinged and ruthless ways would be his ticket in the games, and he would do well to remember that. Opening one eye and letting his one-eyed vision land on Prim, he found that she was barely breathing because she was terrified. He let out a frustrated sigh, though he made sure it wasn't loud so that she wouldn't hear.

"You can go." He said, masking his emotions. He stood and didn't bother with seeing her out as he went to Clove's room. He needed to talk to her. She would be able to tell him what was wrong with him and how to fix it. All that unnecessary emotional crap was more of her expertise than his, after all.

Prim watched Cato leave and she saw him enter a room that was probably his. Seeing that she was alone, she walked on over to the elevator and was just about to press the  _up_  button when the door opened. Her eyes widened when she came face to face with the District 2 mentors.

Flustered, Prim just stood dumbly for a moment before it clicked in her mind that she should step aside. When she did so, the trio exited the elevator and she hurried in, pressing the button to her floor and closing the elevator doors. That was awkward!

" _Clove."_

_Cato's voice was clear from the other side of Clove's closed door, and the girl in question barely raised any part of her body as acknowledgement. She let him in, knowing that he wanted to talk just by his tone. She was looking forward to this conversation and dreading it at the same time, for some reason._

"I didn't think you'd be able to pry yourself off of Prim when you two were basically drowning in each other's eyes earlier." The dark haired girl pointed out as she moved to change her position on her bed so that she was now lying on her stomach. She smirked upon seeing Cato tense. "Now," began she once more. "What's on your mind?"

Cato shifted his weight from one foot to another a little awkwardly as his eyes stayed glued to Clove's expectant face. "Aren't you going to let me have a seat first?" He asked with a slight laugh, which only had Clove rolling her eyes.

"I'm sure you could find your ass a nice place to rest on without my help, Cato." She said, cupping her chin with the palm of her hands. "Now, why don't you just spit out why you're here? Because," she paused, her eyes briefly moved to her bathroom's door before her brown eyes settled on her long time friend once more. "I do want to shower again before dinner." She stared at him, waiting for a decent response. If he didn't give her the answer she was waiting for, she wouldn't hesitate to shove him out the door with her bare hands so that she could shower.

"What do you  _think_  it's about?" Cato asked dryly, face impassive. He took a seat on a bean bag and yawned as Clove rolled her eyes. "Now that we've covered  _that_ , tell me… What do you  _think_  you know about what is going through my mind?" He raised a brow lazily, stretching his legs out in front of him. He had seen the looks that Clove had been sending him after their talk, and he didn't like them one bit. In fact, he found them unnecessary and annoying, and he had come to her to straighten thing out.

Amused, Clove rolled so that she was on her back once more, not once taking her eyes off of Cato. She clicked her tongue, smirking at him knowingly. "Oh Cato," said she dramatically. "I  _know_  I know something, and I'd be glad to tell you, but we have to remember, this is the games, Cato." She licked her lips. "Our friendship cracked the moment you volunteered."

Their eyes met once more, and his emotionless hazel orbs matched her blank brown eyes perfectly. Both understood that they had serious matters on their shoulders and that they were the only ones they could only really talk to, but the air between them was still tense with unresolved frustrations with the other.

"You knew my reasons." Cato replied coolly. "You, more than anyone, saw – and maybe even  _felt_  – what I went through. I'd have thought you wouldn't hold it against me." The accusation in his eyes was as clear as the glass half-filled with water on Clove's bedside table, and she found her eyes narrowing at his words. "But then again, you had always been  _mommy's little girl_." He hissed. "I guess that must have protected you from some of the darker side of things."

Clove understood what he was doing. He was covering himself up once more – building up his walls and making sure that no one could infiltrate it. He was playing it safe by trying to anger her and trying to get a rise out of her. She smirked. That won't work. Not on her, it won't.

"Yes, I'm mommy's little girl," she said evenly, a small laugh escaping her. "But that's because my mother actually gave a fuck about me." She supposed that that was a low blow, but he started it! " _You_  probably don't know what that's like, do you?" She taunted, eyes alert and her entire body ready to move within a moment's notice. She could never fully let her guard down around him anymore.

To her surprise – and relief – he only smirked. It really was impossible to detect his reactions and moods. "Well played, Clove." He paused, breaking eye contact with her as his eyes took on a faraway look. "I want her out." He said finally, after a sigh. "Get her off of my hands and out of my mind. She's only a distraction, and I really don't need that right now." Clove raised a brow at his words.

"We're talking about Primrose, right?" She asked, confused. What happened to him? Sometimes she really did wonder if it was possible to actually figure out how Cato's mind worked. When he said the affirmative, she asked, "Why the sudden change?"

"I don't know." He breathed, and Clove understood what Cato did not. He was in deeper than he thought he was when it came to the blonde little girl from District 12. Clove knew from their conversation yesterday that it was no longer just Prim's body that captivated her friend. Cato may not have known and realized it, but he was invested in Primrose Everdeen, and Clove would see to it that he didn't screw it up. When the time came and it was only the three of them in the arena, she would kill them both – just so that the other wouldn't have to suffer a life without their other half.

Perhaps being a hopeless romantic may play to her advantage.

Cato watched as Clove smiled, though he understood it wasn't at him. She was off in her own little world once more; a place he could never understand.


	12. Interlude: The Hadwells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hadwell family's history.

Chapter Twelve – A Timed Interlude: The Hadwells

* * *

 

_The Hadwells were an upper middle class family who was the source of many of District 2's most renowned and respected citizens. It had brought out a line of doctors, peacekeepers, and weapon-creators; District 2 was pleased to have such exceptional talent at their disposal._

_Everything continued on as it was, with most of the men of the family growing up to become either peacekeepers or weapon-makers, while the women either married into a well-off family and stayed at home or earned a job as a doctor, a weapon-maker, or perhaps even delve into politics. Everyone was pleased with how things worked, and problems only began to rise when one Angus Hadwell was born into – what was considered as – the Hadwell Main Family._

_Angus Hadwell had, much like his name, a unique strength about him. He was intelligent and buoyant, with a dash of brazenness that kept everyone on their toes. He was the envy of his brother and the idol of his younger sister, and as he grew, much potential was seen in him. So much so, in fact, that he had been considered to be shipped off to the Capitol to further advance his knowledge. The problem, however, was his gambling ways._

_He would spend his free time placing his own belongings at stake. This went on and on, to the point that he had began to delve into the family account, which worried his parents. They made a move to put a stop to his ways by blocking him from the account, but it only resulted in him getting beaten to near-death for being unable to pay his debts._

_A good half of the family fortune was used to pay his debts, angering his older brother, depressing his younger sister, and all out giving his parents anxiety issues. Their upper middle class status gave way and left them at middle class._

_They began to try other methods – rehabilitation, hypnosis, even locking him in his room. A method that they hadn't thought to try though was_ love _._

 _One Varian Timberton was the answer to the Hadwell family's prayers. She came from a family that could match the Hadwells in wealth, but only ever truly supplied the district with peacekeepers (for the male) and doctors or nurses (for the females). Varian was smart and creative – which was a given, seeing as she was a weapon-maker. She was also sweet, soft-spoken, and wanted nothing to do with the Hadwells. Angus had found a challenge that would be more fulfilling than gambling, and his family had found the girl that would answer all their problems –_ hopefully _._

_Their story began with a simple greeting from Angus as she passed by her favorite bookshop. It grew as he persisted to invoke any reaction out of her that wasn't out of politeness. He found himself succeeding when she slapped him across the face for kissing her without her consent._

_Two years and a couple of months after the unapproved kiss found Angus proposing to Varian._

_In that time, Angus had done well and was on his way to rebuilding the family's fortune; as he was due to inherit the Hadwell Main Family's account, something that displeased his older brother greatly. His parents passed away, and he took his share of the account – a good eighty percent of the entire Hadwell Fortune. It left his siblings with ten percent for each of them, and neither was happy about it. They never knew their brother could be so greedy._

_Another year swept by and Angus and Varian were married with their first child on the way._

_Six months had gone by, and Varian had an accident involving staircases which caused her to miscarry the baby they would have named Ewan._

_It took months before the couple could finally decide that they wanted to try again, and in those months, Angus' top priority was his wife. Nothing shook his belief that they would surely have another child._

_And they did._

_A good year and a half after the death of their unborn child, Cato Hadwell entered the world, bringing life and happiness into Angus and Varian's life._

_Cato Hadwell was the perfect combination of his parents. Clever, athletic, well-mannered and handsome, it was no wonder that Varian found herself spoiling her son like any mother would. She bought him toys and various other gizmos that kids his age loved, while Angus bought him swords to train with. They saw a brilliant future for their boy; a Hunger Games Victor._

_Consequently, Angus' older brother, Zitomira Hadwell, was training his own son to become a strong fighter as well. He wanted to be the one who raised a lad that would truly re-invent the Hadwell reputation._

_While Cato was three years old, Varian found herself wishing to be with child once more. They tried and failed._

_Once._

_Twice._

_Thrice._

_And by the fourth time, Varian had begun to fall into a depression, an occurrence that Angus had failed to notice as he doted on his first – and only – son._

_Angus delighted at the potential that Cato showed at the tender age of seven, and hired the best teachers to help his son. Without a second thought, Cato was enrolled into the Academy for Advanced Weaponry, a facility that helped children prepare for the Hunger Games._

_When Cato was ten years old, everyone could see that there was clearly a huge possibility that he would one day win the games. It was also the first time that his mother had attempted suicide. She had taken a regular kitchen knife and was just about to plunge it into her chest when Cato had entered the scene. It was a traumatic experience for the entire family – for Cato especially._

_At twelve, Angus and Cato lost Varian to another man; Zitomira._

_Zitomira had lost his wife because of childbirth, and had been raising his son, Jirair, all by himself._

_As it turned out, Zitomira and Varian had been having an affair ever since Cato's seventh birthday. It was a huge blow to the family, and tore everyone apart. Zitomira was the only one who came out truly happy._

_Cato began to fall into a darker path than that intended of him. He didn't hold the same value for women that he once did – save for his best friend Clove, whom he knew would never betray him. To him, they were nothing more than a thing to be used to find some release or pass the time. And, when it suited him, he found that they also made good practice dummies. His swords were testimony to that._

_Angus, on the other hand, found himself reverting back to his old ways. Gambling front, back, left, right, and center, what money he'd earned slowly dwindled, and if it weren't for Cato's scholarship in the Academy, he would've had to pull his son out._

_And that was when the taunts began._

_Cato was teased by everyone for having a whore of a mother and an idiot of a father. Even his cousin Jirair joined the group who bullied him. He was quick to retaliate, of course. He began with the root of the problem students. He killed off the leader, a boy older than him by two years who was looking forward to the upcoming games because he wanted to volunteer. Too bad he wouldn't be able to make it. Cato had made sure to bury the body in the place they'd be least likely to look – at one of the Academy's fields._

_Most of the student body had connected the dots, and from then on, nobody messed with him. He found that he had no need to do the other problem students any harm, because they understood what happened and what the consequences were. No one reported him for fear of their life, and only one person could approach him without being submitted to a completely cold and uncaring glare._

_Clove._

_Ever since they were kids, they had been friends. When Cato had to go through his mother's suicide attempt and then her leaving alongside his father's gambling – and then drinking – ways, Clove had been the wall he leaned on._

_Cato's thirteenth birthday was not celebrated with a huge cake, presents, and all that one would think any new teenager would like. He spent the morning with Clove, and they had shared some brownies as they talked. They parted at noon, and Cato found himself hounded by one of the girls at the Academy who apparently had had a thing for him for ages._

_That afternoon had been the first time he had sex, which he hardly considered at all, seeing as it was mostly just the girl teaching him the tools and techniques of the trade. Nonetheless, it had been beneficial on both their parts, but no relationship came out of their tryst._

_He would have many one-night stands before he found himself in a relationship with Maggie Clentworth. It lasted a good six months before he broke it off because she was too clingy and demanded too much of his time that could've been spent perfecting his swordsmanship._

_A few weeks after turning fourteen, Cato was frustrated with everything. His father was nearly useless; his only worth was that he still went to his job, though Cato had a feeling that even there, he gambled. His mother left him and cut him out of her life effectively. His aunt, a woman he barely knew, had been admitted into the hospital for some reason or another. Ironic, considering she was a doctor and she hadn't realized she was getting ill._

_In that very dark time of his life, he found himself wandering around and needing an escape – some sort of release. It came in the form of a beautiful redhead that he knew has been eyeing him for quite some time. He came on to her, but she refused his advances, saying she didn't want to be one of his trophies. He had rolled his eyes. As if he would ever boast about his conquests when he had so many other more appealing qualities. Not at all amused by the redhead's answer, he forced himself onto her, and when she hissed that she would tell, he threatened to kill her. When she scoffed and told him that she didn't believe him, she got a sword up her vagina, and he promptly left her at an alley way._

_When he had finished all that regarded the redhead, the first person he went to was Clove._

_She had taken one look at him and let him in, the look in his eyes told her that he needed her then and there, and she had acquiesced. And so he told her. Told her of how he really did kill that upperclassman back when he was twelve, how he killed someone just before he came over, how he felt with everything in regards to his family, and every little detail in between. And when he feared that he would be pushed away and persecuted, she went on to do the exact opposite._

_She cupped a cheek with one hand and leaned in to give him a soft kiss – something that he was unused to. He was more accustomed to the fast and needy kisses of his one-night stands that having a slow and sensual one was nearly a mystery to him._

_Their relationship lasted a good year, with only one major bump in the road within it._

_She had wanted to surprise him for their sixth month-aversary, and had planned a surprise in her room. She wanted a romantic night for them, since it would've been their first time together, and Clove wanted it to be something special and worth remembering. But when she had gone on to light the candles while she was dressed in only her lingerie, Cato had come barging into her room, holding a dozen roses and a heart-shaped case of chocolates._

_She had smiled and bounded over to him to give him a kiss, but it turned out that he had mistaken all her preparation. The sound of the falling of the flowers and box of chocolates were soon followed by the sound of skin against skin as he backhanded her. Surprised, but never one to back down – especially from Cato – Clove retaliated with a punch of her own._

_They went on that way until Cato had her pinned against the wall, their bodies pressed against each other and both of them panting with different bruises beginning to show at different parts of their bodies. Blood was running down his nose, and some was running down her lip._

" _Who were you getting ready for?" He had snarled at her, a hand around her neck, slowly choking her, while the other held her hands above her head. "Did you have some other guy on the side, you little whore? Were you planning on sneaking him into your room? Going to fuck him and then have him leave before I knew it, am I right?" He hissed everything straight at her, and she could honestly say that she was feeling equally terrified and irritated._

" _It was for y-you, Cato!" She gasped a bit, unable to take the appropriate amount of air into her system to get her words out. "I wanted to surprise you for our half-aversary." She wheezed, and watched as his eyes visibly softened. His grip around her throat slackened._

" _R-really?" He asked gently, his voice small and soft – like a child. "You did all this," letting go of her completely, he looked around the room. "For me?" He swallowed the lump on his throat, absently wiping the blood off of his face as he turned to face her. Seeing all the marks that he had left on her, and the blood spilling from her cut lip, he looked frightened. Had he done that? To her…? To Clove…?_

_Tears ran down his face as he pulled her into his arms._

_He murmured apologies into her ear, hair and basically every part of her._

_The day that they parted ways as lovers was exactly six months and one day after that bloody incident, and they found that they had an even stronger friendship than when they had first gotten together. Everything was perfect, up until a few months before The Reaping for the 74th Hunger Games._

_Cato and Clove had no plans of entering that year, and so they trained as they normally did, until Cato was called aside by one of his father's_ acquaintances _. It was then that he found out that Angus Hadwell's gambling had reached a new low. He had completely drained his account, but had continued to bet, and had ended up losing their home, and eventually…He placed his son's life on the line as well._

_As it turned out, Angus' acquaintance was the father of the upperclassman Cato had killed when he was twelve, and he was out for revenge. Cato had no idea how he found out, but he had made it clear; either Angus paid his dues – which, even with the Hadwell fortune, he wouldn't have been able to do – or Cato died a slow and painful death._

_It was an eye-opening experience. More so than when he had witnessed his mother attempt suicide and when he killed that boy and then raped and killed that girl. His father was too far gone. He couldn't trust anyone and he could only rely on himself. Clove came to mind, but he knew she shouldn't be burdened with such a thought. And so Cato trained even harder, as his father's acquaintance told him that he would be expecting his payment by the end of the year. He would have to volunteer sooner than expected._

_When Clove had been reaped to participate, no one stepped up to volunteer because all the eighteen year-olds were worthless pieces of asses, and they assumed that if anyone tried to take the glory from Clove, they would have needed to answer to Cato. And no one wanted that. His reputation was not based on groundless rumors, after all._

_But then when a male was reaped and volunteers were asked, Cato stepped up, eyes trained on Achilee, their district representative. His voice was loud and clear as he told everyone that he volunteered, leaving everyone unaware of how to react. Why would he enter an arena where he may just end up killing Clove? Murmurs erupted throughout the crowd as he got on the stage._

_When his and Clove's eyes met, his were blank, while hers were shining with tears. Why would he do this to her?_

_As they were given the time to say their goodbyes, Cato's cousin strolled in, an air of arrogance around him. Their all too similar hazel eyes clashed, and his cousin – Jirair – smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. It was uncanny how similar they looked. Cato's eyes narrowed, but otherwise stayed quiet._

" _I see you've finally succumbed to the monster that you are." Jirair sneered. "To volunteer just after your so called best friend was reaped… Are you even human, Cato?" He taunted, beginning to circle the boy who was younger than him by two months. "Has your bloodlust really gone to the point that you would kill even the one person in the entire world that actually gives a fuck about you?" He chuckled darkly. "But what would I expect? With your psycho of a mother and worthless father, it was just about time."_

_Cato growled, and was just about to strangle Jirair when the Peacekeepers burst in to put a stop to him and to let his next visitors in. The blonde haired young man froze as he met the gaze of his divorced parents. He stood in attention, making no move to get closer to them or to move away. That would be their choice._

_An entire minute of silence elapsed, and Varian was the first to speak as she threw her arms around her son's abdomen._

" _Oh Cato!" She exclaimed, pulling him close. "I am so sorry!" And she went on to apologize profusely for all her shortcomings and basically everything she's ever to done to him. Cato waited to see whether or not she would apologize for giving birth to him. Maybe if he hadn't been born, Angus and Varian would have stayed together. Or perhaps, it was just the way things were supposed to unfold. He tuned everything else she had to say out. He didn't need to hear any of it because he didn't hold on to the slim hope of her ever being the mother he once knew she could be._

_Change is inevitable, and circumstances certainly had a hand in changing and shaping the brutal and bloody Cato Hadwell that everyone now knew._

" _Good luck, son." Angus said gruffly, hands in his pockets. Cato let his hazel orbs meet that of his father's as the only sign of acknowledgement. "I… I know that I've missed out on everything lately. But I promise – when you get back, I'll be better. We can go back to how things were. I'll stop gambling and I'll…" And then the waterworks began anew. Cato watched without a care as his father broke down in front of him._

_Before he knew it, Cato found himself within his parents' embrace. It was an unsettling feeling, and he wasn't at all remorseful when he shook them off. They abandoned him! Did they really think that it would be that easy to regain his favor?_

_He was thankful when they were ushered out and he and Clove were escorted to the train. The moment that he got some alone time with her, he spilled everything. He told her about the death sentence hanging over him, and she promised that if she wins, she'll do everything in her power to care for his family – should he wish it. But he didn't. He asked her to forget about him in the event that she did win, and for her to live her life as if he never existed and has never been a part of his family's twisted life._


	13. The Separation

Chapter Thirteen – The Separation

* * *

Prim sneezed as she exited the elevator and stepped onto the landing of the twelfth floor, effectively catching the attention of Cinna, who was simply lounging about with a sleek gadget in hand. She smiled politely when Cinna caught her eye, and she made her way over to the man whose task it was to make her appealing to Panem. Taking a seat beside the man, she peered over his shoulder at the screen of the thin aluminum pad that he held. She gasped at what she saw.

It was the design of a beautiful dress. There was no color on it, seeing as it was just a sketch, so it was only really just different shades of gray, but despite that, she could clearly see that it was different than most of the dresses she'd seen before.

"What's that?" She asked curiously, bringing her eyes to look up at Cinna.

"This, Angel," said he, placing an arm around Prim and pulling her close to his side. "Will be your dress during the interviews." He smiled. "Do you like it?" He handed the thin gadget over to her and chuckled when she looked at the drawing in awe. She nodded and placed the pad on his lap before throwing her arms around him in a hug.

"It looks beautiful! I can't wait to see it." She said honestly, a genuine smile on her face. Cinna placed the pad to the side, a smile on his face at Prim's actions. He played with an end of her braided hair absentmindedly as he pondered how to approach her with the subject in his mind.

"Angel…" He began tentatively, and the tone of his voice was enough to let Prim know that he was about to talk seriously. Why did she have a very strong feeling that this would be about her outburst earlier? "About this morning... Peeta was only looking out for you, you know." Ah, there it was, she was right. There was no condescending tone in his voice though, and it made Prim somewhat more willing to listen to his words, even if she did think that her actions were justified. "I know he said things that someone should never call another, but I'm sure that when you talk to him, he would tell you how sorry he is, and how he didn't mean it."

"But it's not just Peeta, Cinna." Prim argued in a small voice, her eyes trained on her thumbs as she twiddled with them. "I…" She took a steadying breath and smiled softly when her stylist squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, pulling her closer to his side. "I've seen how everyone else looks at me. They either pity me or worry about me." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "But I just want to show them that I'm fine. I don't live a perfect life. I live in the Seam in District 12, but I don't mind because I'm living life with my family and friends. There's no need to worry about me because between Katniss and mom, I'm as cared for as I ever need to be. I'm not weak either – every time that Katniss left to work while mom was still buried deep in her mind, I had to care for her while maintaining good grades in school. I do every small thing that I could to help my family out, because when my dad died, it showed me that nothing's permanent. One day, I might wake up and neither mom nor Katniss would be there. Mom will die someday, and when I'm all grown up, Katniss might just actually  _finally_  marry Gale." Prim hiccuped and she did nothing to hide or wipe away the tears that were falling freely down her face. "I had to grow up and accept responsibility over being the  _light_  of the household, because our roles had suddenly switched."

An image of Katniss fresh from the woods entered her mind, and she leaned forward to nestle her temples in her hands. Various scenarios between her and her older sister raised through her head as she recounted every single detail about Katniss. Her brown hair, tan skin, and grey eyes. She remembered times when she would return home just after trading in the Hob, and Prim's sob did not lessen.

"Katniss became the father-figure; keeping us –  _me_ – safe and making sure that we didn't all starve to death." She inhaled sharply, finding it hard to breath and speak at the same time, but she made no move to stop. She had never had anyone to confide in until then, and she needed it. She needed to let someone know just what Primrose Everdeen's thoughts were about her predicament and about her character.

From her older sister, her subconscious then filled her with her mother. The little clips she saw in her mind were of different stages of her mother's depression. One where she barely acknowledged anyone, another where she would sometimes wander off and Prim would have to follow to ensure that she didn't hurt herself, and then there was the time that she finally began to speak again. All that and more flew through her mind as she went on with her words.

"My mother became the child." She said with a small cough. "We had to keep an eye on her to stop her from doing anything that may harm herself – or maybe even us! It took a long while before she began to show signs of recovery, and by then, Katniss and I were so used to doing things by ourselves that we had to readjust once again when she decided that she was better."

Cinna had resorted to brushing calming strokes on Prim's back with his hand, and he looked up when he felt a shadow cast over them. Seeing Haymitch and Effie, he raised his free hand's forefinger to his lips to tell them to keep quiet for the moment. They nodded, despite all three thinking that even if they did make their presence known, Prim would be too far gone to stop.

"And then I was left to play the mom." She took a couple gulps of air before she continued, "I'd wake up and make some breakfast for all three of us with whatever we had at the time. After that, I'd bathe and get ready for school, always keeping an eye and an ear out for if my mother were to do something unpredictable." She licked her lips. "And then when I was sure that she was fine and wasn't going anywhere, I'd go to school. Most of the time, Katniss would walk me to and from it, but when she doesn't, Rory steps in." She let out a breath slowly. "But when Rory doesn't… when both of them aren't there to keep me company, I feel it. I feel the stares and can just hear them whispering behind their hands. I'm the little girl who lost her father and whose mother stopped caring for. My sister's the only one supposedly keeping us together. And while I admire –  _I love Katniss_  – for doing that, I just wish they could see that I did something too."

"I don't think anyone doubts you now, Angel." Haymitch said, placing a hand on Prim's nape. Seeing as he was standing behind her – and the chair – it was really the most comfort he could give. He hadn't had an alcoholic drink in two days, and Prim's story was the last straw that sobered him up. He felt her tense under his touch, and he sighed loudly. "You  _are_  stronger than we thought, and I'm sorry for having ever underestimated you." He smiled sympathetically at her as her form began to relax slightly, despite the fact that she wasn't facing him. "I understand now. We all do. And, I think, Peeta does too." His eyes met that of the boy who had been standing by the elevator ever since Prim had begun talking about switched roles.

Prim's head spun so quickly that Haymitch retracted his hands quickly and the tips of her braided hair actually hit Cinna in the face. None of that registered though as her tear-streaked face was met by Peeta's remorseful blue eyes. She hadn't meant for him to hear that!

"I…" She began, not even knowing what to say. She couldn't bear to be in the same room as Peeta. At least not yet, when she'd just so openly brought her heart out to Cinna, and as she looked around the room, she found that Effie was there too, and as if on cue, Porita stepped into the scene, nearly bumping into Peeta as she stepped out of elevator with a similar gadget that Cinna was holding earlier.

"What happened?" Portia asked, raising a perfectly shaped cyan brow as she looked around the occupants of the room. When Prim stood abruptly, her other brow rose as well.

"I'll have a shower before dinner." She whispered, loud enough for only Effie to hear, seeing as she had gone around the couch and was just about to sit beside her when the youngest of the occupants in the room stood.

"Oh alright, dear." The woman said, a tender lilt to her voice.

When she was finally in the safety of her room, Prim took a calming breath to even out both her breathing and her heartbeat. Why did she have to open her big mouth? Now everyone knew exactly how she felt, and keeping Peeta at arm's length wouldn't be as easy anymore – even if it's for his own safety!

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair, with Haymitch taking his usual seat at the head of the table and Prim taking a new place to his right, prompting Effie to switch with her and sit to his left. Peeta stayed in his usual place, but now was sitting beside Effie because of the switch, and now Prim was beside Cinna, on the other side of whom, was Portia.

No one spoke of the games or the scene earlier, and it seemed that Portia and Peeta had gotten the details from Cinna and the others when Prim had fled the scene. Prim ate with her head down and contributed nothing to the conversation. She didn't even have a clue what it was, so even as she poked at her dessert, she said nothing.

When dinner was over, she wasted no time in retreating back to her room, but as she heard to the heavy footsteps that followed her there, she knew that she would have to face Peeta sooner as opposed to later. What was she supposed to say? That his life – or rather, the way it would end – rested on her shoulders? She knew that she couldn't stay mad at him. She wasn't that kind of person. Holding grudges was never her forte, just like Peeta wasn't the kind of person to let others sacrifice for him. In the small time that they knew each other, she understood that Peeta was the very definition of a selfless human being and a total gentleman. It was as if he had never been corrupted or touched by the Capitol.

Prim's hand was holding the doorknob when a pair of arms encircled her from behind. She was pulled even closer to him, and her grip on the knob tightened as the back of her head met his shirt-clad chest. Nearly every part of him was touching her, and she could feel the goose bumps crawl on her skin. Her breath caught in her throat. Why was this affecting her so much? She could feel and hear his breathing, and she closed her eyes. Pushing him away would be for the best –  _for both of them_. Most of his safety was guaranteed if she stayed as unattached to him as possible, because surely, Cato wasn't below breaking promises?

The thought of the District Two Tribute brought to mind his story earlier. It was odd how he had gone from scary and sadistic to pensive and passive in mere seconds. In that moment, it had showed Prim that Cato wasn't as scary as he had first appeared to be. Yes, he was more sadistic than anyone she knew, but he wasn't completely heartless either (as she had once thought him to be) – their  _moment_  earlier and the way he had recounted how he met Clove was proof of that.

His apology melted with her order for him to let go of her. His hold did not loosen despite her command, and Prim could feel her already rather weak resolve beginning to slip. With her eyes still closed, her brows furrowed and she sucked on her lower lip. How was she supposed to get out of this one? She honestly felt too tired to use force, and from the looks of it, Peeta wasn't going to give in with just her words.

"I'm so sorry," said Peeta once more, and her eyes snapped open as she felt his breath against the shell of her ear. When had he gotten there? She took a step forward; another attempt at getting away from him. His hold on her slackened for a fraction, and for even that small reprieve, she was grateful. "I… I only wanted you away from him." He said. "I wanted you to stay with me – by my side. I couldn't grasp the fact that he'd laid a hand on you. He's some psychotic man from a place where they probably encouraged violence. I can't stand the thought that he might hurt you."

There was a pause.

In that half a minute of silence, none of the two moved. Prim could sense that there was something more that he wanted to say, Peeta on the other hand, could feel his throat constrict. Yes, he wanted nothing more than to continue with his train of thought, but he feared it would only push her away. He finally let her out of his hold with a sigh. She turned her door knob and pushed the door open.

"All right." She said softly. "But I still have to stick with him, Peeta. There are… a lot of things that are going on right now, and I think that we should reconsider being coached together." She couldn't even turn her head to meet his gaze. She was sure that he would've felt betrayed and that it would show on his face. She couldn't even bear the thought of it. "I'm sorry too." And then she stepped into her room to leave a gawking Peeta at her door.

Peeta blinked as the door closed with a soft click. Another click told him that she had locked her room, and he surveyed the surroundings to make sure that no one had seen them. He felt empty, and he knew that there was only one person he could talk to about his predicament. He turned on his heel and headed to Haymitch's room.

What did she mean by things going on? And she wanted to be coached separately now? All for Cato? A frown was on his face as he sped up on his way to his mentor's room. Had she chosen Cato? Was there even a choice to be made? The thought had him stopping in his tracks. There was no reason that Prim had to choose. This was no competition over who held more over her. Peeta had sworn to himself that he wouldn't stoop as low as Cato on that front.

Stopping in front of the designated room, Peeta was just about to knock when the door swung open to reveal a shirtless Haymitch. The older of the two was unsurprised to see the young tribute, and he motioned with a nod of his head that Peeta follow him.

They found themselves in the kitchen, and Haymitch went to pour himself a glass of water. Peeta took a seat on a stool and laid his arms on the counter top, resting his forehead atop his arms for a moment as he assembled his thoughts. Haymitch leaned against the sink, drinking from his glass as he watched Peeta.

"She said she wanted to be coached separately." Peeta stated. "And I want to know why, but I'm pretty sure that pestering her wouldn't end well." His gaze hardened. "What will happen tomorrow? Will you have her stay with  _them_  again?" He swallowed quite visibly. He was never this easy to anger. He was a tranquil and untroubled boy ever since he was a child, but as he got closer to Prim, he found himself latching on to the light she seemed to radiate and becoming overprotective of it –  _of her_.

Haymitch's calculating gaze stayed on Peeta, his eyes squinting slightly as he studied the young lad carefully and curiously. It was unheard of for a tribute to care for a fellow tribute as much as the boy in front of him did, and if Haymitch didn't know any better, he would go as far as say that Peeta's authentic caring nature had somehow morphed his vision of Prim into love. What kind of love though, Haymitch was unsure. He knew though, that should it be romantic love, it wouldn't do for his plan.

Peeta had approached him earlier in the week that the priority would be Prim. He had made it clear that it didn't matter if he died; so long as Prim lived. Haymitch thought that he had secured it when he had talked to Brutus for Prim to stay with them. He had actually planned on telling Prim about the move, but had been subjected to her teary explanation and then the tension between her and Peeta back at dinner hadn't exactly helped. Other than that though, Haymitch thought he had things figured out. And then Peeta comes and he doesn't understand anymore.

Did Peeta Mellark care for Primrose Everdeen more than he let on? Was she still the little sister of the girl he loved? Haymitch honestly didn't think so. And if that was the case, then he had a huge problem. Love, he knew, had the tendency to screw with people's minds. If Peeta didn't get his act together, Haymitch wouldn't know what to do with him.

"You asked me to protect her." Haymitch finally pointed out. "You asked me to make sure that she got far enough until you eliminated every other competition – just like how she had laid everything down at breakfast. To accomplish that, she should stay with the Careers. They have a strong alliance and would see to it that everyone in their way was killed before they turned on each other. When that time comes, she'll be on her own, and hopefully would be selfish enough to try and save herself." He paused, taking another drink of water. It was bland and so very unlike his usual beverage, but he knew better than to back out of their arrangement. "Now you're making it feel as if you want her to survive longer – but with  _you_. Tell me, Peeta, was she right?" He placed his glass in the sink. "Did you really plan to keep her by your side  _and_  eliminate everyone…? Because that is damn well  _impossible_." He shook his head. "You're going to have to choose, Peeta. Would you rather she stay safe in the hands of the Careers or she stay with you –  _a prime target_ , from what I've heard of that Cato kid."

Peeta's jaw tightened, and his eye twitched. No, he didn't want to make her an even bigger target than she already was, because really, who  _wasn't_  a target? He sighed, of course Haymitch would be logical in this situation. To let her stay with the Careers would be his best bet in sending her back home, but he wouldn't deny that he preferred it if she continued to accompany him. Again though, Haymitch was right. Either way, Cato was already out to get him, and if he were to hang out with Prim again, then the Careers might just make a game out of it and end up hurting Prim in the end. He couldn't have that. He wouldn't.

"You're right."

"Of course I am. I may be drunk most of the time, but I'm pretty intelligent and less likely to embarrass anyone when I'm sober." Haymitch said with a roll of his eyes. He wanted to know more – to ask about how Peeta felt about the young girl, to understand whether or not keeping Prim with Cato  _was_  the right choice. Despite the curiosity though, he kept his mouth shut. He told himself that it wasn't any of his business.

Prim was a naturally kind and very appealing girl, he had known that from the start. She would be able to get through the interviews flawlessly with only a bit of help from him and Effie. If she – and he, by default – played her ( _their_ ) cards right, people would be lining up to sponsor them. Haymitch would make sure that they would be the talk of Panem, and that they would get all the help that they can. Maybe Haymitch promised that he would keep Primrose alive; it didn't mean that he would just let Peeta waste away.

* * *

Breakfast was almost back to normal, but Peeta and Prim remained on opposite sides of the table and didn't even attempt at talking to each other. An uneasy feeling had settled in Prim's stomach once she realized that today would be the day for the Private Sessions, but it didn't stop Peeta and Prim from supplying their thoughts about the conversation, though they made careful moves so that the other wouldn't be in another's way. It was an amusing game to watch for the other occupants of the table, though Effie was more worried than amused. She had come to care for little Prim, and hoped that she and Peeta would work it out because she could see that it was bothering both of them.

When the first meal of the day finished, Haymitch waved Prim over and told her of a part of the plan. She would be staying with the Careers from now onwards, and she was to do all of the things she could during her Private Session later on. She was to stay amicable with everyone, even Peeta, but she would only speak to him if he initiated it or if she had a question; otherwise, she was to stick to the Careers.

The descent back into the lower levels of the Training Center was a silent one. Neither Peeta nor Prim spoke, nor did they make any move to cover the silence with communication. Prim thought that there was nothing more for them to discuss, though Peeta would beg to differ. He held his tongue so as not to push her away once more.

When they arrived, he let her go out first, like he always did, and they bade each other a  _see you later_  before going on separate ways. Peeta headed to one of the stations and Prim went straight to Clove and the others, taking the time to note that Cato didn't seem to be around.

"Mmmm-Morning, Prim." Pan greeted with a yawn, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Prim returned the greeting and smiled up expectantly at everyone as well.

"Cato will be down in a minute," said Clove with a huff. "He had to talk to Brutus about something. Tch. I don't even want to know what those two are talking about." She rolled her eyes, before smiling down at the girl who had her childhood friend even more messed up with his emotions. Throwing an arm around Prim's shoulder, she pulled the little girl close as she turned to Marvel. "What do you think? We'll start training without him." She nodded to the stations. "We need to prep for the Private Sessions, anyways."

Everyone agreed, with Marvel giving out instructions that they could do as they wished. They all panned out, with Clove taking Prim to (what the former has dubbed) their station – The Knife-Throwing Station.


	14. The Private Sessions

Chapter Fourteen – The Private Sessions

* * *

The Private Sessions were as important as the interviews. It helped sponsors and gamblers decide who to bet on and also gave the other tributes an idea on who to keep an eye out for or eliminate as soon as possible. Different tactics called for different scores. A previous winner, Johanna Mason, had made it so that she only acquired a small score to appear mindless and weak, but in the end, came out a winner. Another male victor did the same, gaining a score of three but winding up the victor. It proved that one should tread carefully within the games. One never knew who the real threat was.

The uneasy feeling Prim had from the moment she woke up only increased as the time went by, and even Clove's friendly and aloof behavior did nothing to ease her pain. Oddly enough, Cato had been steadfastly and pointedly avoiding her. She wondered briefly if that meant she could talk to Peeta again, but whenever she turned to look at her district partner, she would feel Cato's glare on her. And when she would turn to meet his furious gaze, his eyes said it all.

" _I want you to ignore_ Peeta _."_

His words from yesterday rang at the same time that his words from the other day did, and Prim looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

" _Or do you want him to die the moment that he steps off that platform when we get to the arena?"_

She took a steadying breath to calm her heart. Even just a look from him penetrated her, and she couldn't help the blush that rose to her cheeks as more memories arose.

The kisses, the talks, and then finally, his face when he told her about how he and Clove met – she didn't think it was possible for someone like him to show any other emotion apart from anger, lust, and ignorance. Seeing his pensive moment broke that view of him though. She could see that there was a time when he was more open about things, and she heard the way his tone got softer too. It was an unforgettable sight, and Prim wanted nothing more than be able to see it again.

"Prim! It's time for lunch." Clove said, placing an arm around the younger girl's shoulders. She saw the girl spacing out, and she wondered what was up. As she looked around and caught the eyes of one Cato Hadwell though, she smirked. Oh my, oh my. She chuckled and led Prim to the Lunch Room, "You have been spacing out, Prim."

Blinking rapidly to get her thoughts in order, Prim turned to Clove and was surprised to find that they were walking! She really was spacing out. When she saw that Clove wasn't looking at her though, she followed her gaze and found Cato rolling his eyes at them. He – along with the rest of The Alliance – was waiting by the door for them, and she looked to the door just in time to see Peeta enter. Her eyes followed his form as he did so, and the only time she realized she was staring was when Clove squeezed her shoulders. Her eyes flicked to the side once more, to meet Clove's eyes. She was surprised when the girl shook her head and then nodded to Cato.

Was Clove protecting her? Or at the very least, helping her get into Cato's good graces?

Prim, shocked by the possibility, stumbled slightly as Clove gently pushed her to the other side, so that she could get going to her seat. She caught herself by holding on to the backrest of one of the chairs, nearly getting her fingers tangled in another tribute's hair. Her wide eyes met Clove's amused expression, and she resolved to ask her about it later. Clove seemed like the only real person in The Alliance to her. As nice as Pan was, there was an underlying current of something that Prim didn't like about her. The female tribute from District 4 was obliged to hang around her because Cato told them to. Clove, on the other hand, seemed to be doing it without Cato's prompting. It was nice to feel as if she could freely attract friends to her without anyone interfering.

With a small smile curving her lips, Prim took her seat beside Peeta.

Prim would have loved to have a day where they could have lunch in silence. One where she didn't have to speak to anyone or keep anyone's attention – but as it turned out, it just couldn't happen. And so as she took a bite of the steak, she wondered just what the commotion was about this time. She looked around as the sound of footsteps echoed all around. Peacekeepers were now surrounding them, and then a voice filled the room from the speakers that she never noticed was there.

" _Private Sessions shall begin in one hour."_  A bell.  _"I repeat, Private Sessions shall begin in one hour."_

The unease was back full-force, and Prim found that she couldn't eat anymore. Her appetite had left her and that was quite obvious as she idly rolled the peas on her plate with her fork. Her free hand stayed unmoving on her lap, and her gaze had grown unfocused. What if she got a really low score? What if the gamemakers don't even look at her and just decide to give her a low score? What if she fainted in front of them and wouldn't be able to show them any of her skill? What if…? What if…? What if.

Cato, who had caught her shift in mood, watched her from the corner of his eye, fighting to keep his cool and focus. He wanted to grab her and shake her until she understood that this was the games. She had to get herself together and make sure she did something right while she was with the gamemakers.

And that's where his thoughts stopped.

There he went again. His emotions were getting the better of him, and he didn't like it one bit. His gaze hardened as he stared at his food. A little girl had affected him in ways he'd never realized was still possible. He could just see Clove's smug expression, telling him that she knew it all along. He was beginning to  _care_  for Rose as more than a mere object. His grip on the fork tightened considerably. This was not going to do! He wasn't supposed to feel anything for anyone – much less some girl from a lowly district he barely even knew. But she wasn't just some girl, he found himself correcting. She was  _his girl_. She was the acclaimed Fire Angel of Panem, because no matter how dangerous she looked or eye catching she was during the chariot ride, she still held that air of innocence. It was a curious trait, and he supposed that it was one of the things that made her quite noticeable to him.

He swallowed his mouthful and let his eyes flick upwards to look at her once more. She had made no move to eat, and he let out a small inaudible sigh. If he was going to win the games – and he would do anything to do so – he had to fight to keep his emotions in check as well. He hated that after years of locking it down, it opens up just because some girl refused him. It was despicable! He was better than that. He knew and understood the complications that would come if he let his emotions hinder his goal. And really, once he was crowned victor, he would be able to find another girl to fuck. There were plenty of girls who would bend over for a successful man, after all.

The thought alone calmed him down and left a barely seen smile on his lips as he continued to eat.

When the Private Sessions finally began, Prim was seated between Clove and Cato, both of whom were relaxed and talking amicably (or playing with her braid, in Cato's case) with the Districts One and Four tributes. She didn't understand why they weren't nervous. Didn't they worry that they would screw up? But then again, she countered, this was part of what they've been training for in their whole life. They went to a school that taught them the best ways to harm and kill, as opposed to what she learned in school – Arithmetic, English, Science, and then coals, because, ultimately, everything in District 12 traced back to coals.

Slowly, the room began to empty. Marvel went first, then Glimmer, Cato (who tugged on Prim's braid one last time before he left), Clove. The District Three tributes went, and then Vox, and after him, Pan. Prim looked around as the male tribute from District Five left. Would it be alright if she went over to Peeta now? She watched him curiously. He was sitting with the District Eleven tributes, and Prim smiled softly. At least he had someone with him. She would never have wanted for him to be alone.

Cato had been clear though. She was to stay away from him. And perhaps it was irrational of her to do so, but she wholeheartedly believed that if she did anything against Cato, it would get back to him in the end. The faded bruises on her arms reminded Prim that crossing him would mean forfeiting not only her dignity and life, but Peeta's as well. She decided against going to Peeta. After all, who knew if there was some spy?

When District Seven's male tribute was called, Prim sighed. It had been more bearable when the others were there. They kept her mind off of the thought of failing, seeing as they had been so calm and at ease about it. She hugged her knees close to her chest and looked around. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized that Rue was coming closer to her.

"Hi, can I sit here?"

"I'm sorry about yesterday."

They stared at each other for a while, before they burst out giggling for the shallow reason of talking at the same time. It was an enlightening feeling they both found. It took their mind off of the very serious situations that they've found themselves in, and Prim was more than glad to have company. Especially one that was so close to her age. Rue was twelve, and Prim was thirteen, everyone else in the games were either fifteen or older, and Prim just found that it was nice to have someone that could somewhat understand what she was going through.

Sitting side by side, Prim could see the noticeable difference between herself and Rue. Where her skin was fair, Rue's was dark. Her blonde hair, should she have left it unbraided, would fall in pin-straight strands, while Rue's black locks were naturally curly. She was considerably thinner than Rue, but a couple of inches taller as well.

"I'm sorry about yesterday." Prim repeated. "I didn't really have much say on where I was going." The scene from yesterday replayed in Prim's mind, and she truly felt embarrassed that she had left Rue there.

"Don't worry," said the younger girl with a shake of her head. "I understand. I mean, who would be able to stand up to a guy more than twice your size?" She said jokingly, making Prim chuckle along with her. It was so sad, Prim thought. Rue wasn't even fazed by the fact that within – or after – a couple of days, she would wound up dead in some arena just to pay for the crime her ancestors may or may not have participated in.

"How has training been?" Prim asked conversationally, pulling her knees to her chest. Her head was tilted to the side a bit even as she looked at Rue, and she hoped that the younger girl had a better time training than she had.

"It's been alright." Rue said with a smile, her eyes darting from Prim to the lone figure of Peeta in the far back, and then back to her current companion. "I've made friends, I guess." She added with a knowing look. She didn't think that asking Prim about her training would be a good idea, and so she opted with, "Are you nervous about the Private Sessions?" She paused, before thoughtfully adding, "You were really good with the herbs and the knives."

The thought that someone had been watching her without her knowledge had Prim blushing, and she mumbled her gratitude even as her embarrassment heightened, seeing as she had no idea what Rue was capable of.

"Can I ask you something?" Rue asked. She giggled at Prim's confused look before adding, "It's kind of personal, so I wouldn't mind if you don't." She let her gaze lock with that of Thresh, as she voiced her question. "That girl," said she. "The one that wanted to volunteer for you – why didn't you let her?" She tore her eyes from her district partner and placed them back on Prim.

Oh. To think that someone had remembered a moment that now seemed so long ago, brought a small bittersweet smile to her face. Her lips formed a thin line even as she let out a breathy giggle that even to her own ears seemed forced. She didn't think that such a question could affect her so much. But then again, wasn't that always the case when it came to her family? She was always sensitive about the topic. And she knew she probably always will be.

"She was my sister." Prim replied after a minute.

Before they knew it, District Eleven was called, and as Thresh passed by them, Rue bade him good luck. A few minutes after him, Rue was called and Prim was left alone with Peeta. She stayed in her place, neither making a move to come near the other nor move away from the other. When his name was called, she fought hard not to watch as he passed by her, but found herself doing so anyways.

"Good luck." She found herself saying suddenly, surprising them both. "Make sure you do all those weights and stuff." She added hastily, finding herself blush. She hadn't planned on speaking to him, much less give out advice!

"You too," replied Peeta, giving her only a sideways glance. "I saw you practicing with the knives. Don't forget about them." He said, before leaving the room.

There it was again! To think that someone would watch her without her knowledge; it was unnerving. She stared at the door as she waited for her name to be called. For some reason, Peeta seemed to take longer than the others. It was a peculiar thing to notice, she supposed. She was getting restless by the second though, and she had no idea how she'll go about showing the gamemakers that she deserved a high enough score.

" _Primrose Everdeen."_

She stood on shaky legs as soon as she was called, and she stumbled slightly as the blood rushed to her head and stars clouded her vision. Her knees threatened to give way to her, and she held onto the wall before she left the room to head to the assigned room.

Upon her arrival, she looked straight to the gamemakers who were all lounged about in an elevated area. Her brows furrowed. There was tension in the air, and she had no idea what could've caused it. Deciding to show them her knife-throwing as a last resort, she went on to demonstrate her other skills first.

Herb knowledge – check.

Snares, ropes, and the like – check.

_Archery –_

Prim paused. She turned her head to regard the gamemakers once more. They were watching her closely. It was so unnerving, and she had a feeling that they didn't do this to every single tribute. She could feel the goose bumps that covered her body. Inhaling slowly, she poised herself to aim at the target, bow and arrow shaking a bit in her hands.

_First attempt – fail._

The arrow found itself hitting the wall with an unwanted screech of metal against metal.

_Second attempt – close._

Three rings into the target, an okay shot, but nothing compared to what Prim knew her sister could've done.

_Third attempt – fail._

Grazing the edge of the target before hitting the wall behind it once more, the arrow barely left a mark on the red and white patterned target.

Flushing, Prim doesn't know whether or not she should try once more. She shoots another glance the gamemakers' way, and found that more than most of them had their attention taken from her by a roast pig that had entered the scene. Frowning, she decided to move to her last station.

Archery – small check.

_Knife-throwing –_

Prim stood before the array of knives properly arranged before her, and looked for the one that looked and felt similar to the one she used when gathering herbs. Inspecting it in her hands carefully, she stood at the marker assigned and locked in on one of the targets.

_First attempt – success._

Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and readied herself, before exhaling loudly and throwing the knife. It landed right in the middle of the target, and she smiled and expectantly looked to the gamemakers for any sign of reaction. When she saw that they were all focused more on the pig than on her, she glared. How rude! Here she was, doing her best to make an impression when they weren't even giving her the time of day. It was as if the tension from earlier had dissipated when the pig came into the picture. Her lips quirked into a frown, she marched on over to the set of knives and took another one similar to the one she had thrown.

Adrenaline was coursing through her veins in waves, and she stormed on over to the target where her knife was lodged. With one knife in her left hand, she gripped the handle of the one lodged to the target with her right. And then she began to drag it.

When she was done, she had carved out two letters onto the target.

_HG_

With another intake of breath, she placed a giant X across the two letters before stabbing the target once more and leaving the knife right in the middle of her work.

Anger was coming off of her in waves, and she turned her attention to the gamemakers. Half of them were looking at her with disbelieving eyes, while the other half was frowning. She stalked on over to stand in front of them, a knife in her left hand. She moved it so that it was now settled in her right – her throwing arm.

Without another word, she threw the sword their way, aiming for the apple in the pig's mouth but hitting it's eye instead. She then bowed.

"Ignoring people is rude, sirs," said she calmly, before straightening herself up and leaving without another word.

Did the people of the Capitol really have no respect for her district? She growled, hands clenching into fists. She and Peeta would show them! They were people to be reckoned with. They weren't backing down without a fight, and the Capitol wouldn't know what hit them. Maybe Prim would really try her best to win this, after all.

And maybe –  _just maybe_  – she would get to see Katniss again!

Prim's heart hummed with excitement, a small smile gracing her lips.


	15. The Scores

Chapter Fifteen – The Scores

* * *

"And what did you say?" Haymitch asked with a laugh after Prim had recounted her Private Session with him. They – she, Haymitch, and Effie – were sitting in the kitchen; with a mug of hot chocolate in front of her, a glass of lemonade in Haymitch's hand, and a bowl of blueberries in front of Effie.

" _Ignoring people is rude, sirs,"_  said Prim, repeating what she had said just a couple of hours ago. Haymitch didn't seem to mind what she had done one bit, and it helped ease the guilt and anxiety that she had been nursing ever since she got on her floor. Effie's reaction, however, was the complete opposite of Haymitch's.

"That is perhaps the most irresponsible thing I've ever heard of!" The Capitol woman scoffed, her accent more prominent thanks to her anger. "You should've been more careful, Prim!" She reprimanded, getting Prim to look down at her drink guiltily as she fumbled her fingers before her. "Angering them wouldn't do you any good."

"And so what if they get angry?" Haymitch snapped, startling Prim and Effie both. Not daring to look anyone in the eye, Prim's head remained bowed as Effie met Haymitch's heated gaze head on. "Who will they take it out on?" He taunted. "Her? The other kids?" He asked rhetorically. "I don't think they've got anything else to lose by telling those scumbags the truth."

Effie's mouth closed as Haymitch's words sunk in, and Prim was struck just by how intelligent Haymitch truly was. Beneath the alcoholic and border-line neurotic aura, he truly was a genuine person. When he promised to help them out back at the train, Prim had believed him without a second thought. Now, more than ever, she believed in him. She believed that with his help, maybe she – or Peeta – had a chance at winning The 74th Hunger Games.

* * *

Confused.

That was the only way Prim could describe the feeling as she stood in the middle of the living room. On one hand, Cato had told her that she was to spend no time with Peeta. On the other hand, Cato never said anything about spending the day with her prep team and her mentor. Shifting her weight from one foot to another, she stood in front of the elevator, her mind reeling.

Prim had no idea where she would be staying to watch the scores.

She turned around to head to her room and just lock herself there, only to pause because a good meter or two away from her was Peeta. Thing between them were cordial at best, but the carefree bubble that they once had stood in was now gone – as if it hadn't been there in the first place. She winced at the thought, feeling guilty. After all, she was the one who had pushed – and was still continuing to push – him away. She met his gaze and sent him a tight-lipped smile and a nod, something he returned rather stiffly.

Taking a couple of steps forward to head to her room, she wished the she could somehow get there without having to pass him, but knew that the only way to do so would be to go around the sofa, which would make it quite obvious that she was steadfastly avoiding him. She sighed softly. Never in her life had she thought that she would be having trouble with anyone, but then again, she never really thought anyone would take such a keen interest in her either. She had just passed him when the elevator bell sounded and its doors opened.

"Prim?" Clove called out, poking her head out of the contraption that brought people up and down to their desired floors. She had been preparing for a nice time with her team to watch the scores after training when she remembered little Primrose Everdeen. Knowing Cato the way she did, he was testing her to see whether or not she would come to him, and Clove understood that Prim wasn't the type to quickly latch on to that. As mean as it was, Clove couldn't help but think Prim was a little slow.

Surprised, Prim turned and met the curious gaze of Clove's immediately. She then let her eyes flash briefly to Peeta, who had gone rigid. She guessed that having another tribute around – a Career, specially – made him agitated. And, not wanting to burden him anymore than she already has, Prim walked on over to Clove, a friendly smile on her face.

"I guess he sent you to take me, then?" She whispered as she entered the elevator, to which Clove shook her head. Cato had said nothing about heading to his floor earlier in the day, while they were training, or perhaps he had and she hadn't been paying attention – a statement she highly doubted. Prim was a rather attentive person, especially considering the life of someone she cared about was on the line. She let her gaze lock with Peeta's as the elevator doors began to close, and she only looked away at the last moment to look at her shoes instead.

"Maybe I know because I've known him longer, but he's pretty much testing you." Clove pointed out bluntly, leaning against a wall. "You come to him of your own accord and your boyfriend is safe, stay with your team and he sees it as betrayal and wouldn't hesitate to turn on you in a heartbeat." There was also Clove's theory that Prim brought out the more humane side of Cato, but there was no need to mention it.

"Peeta's not my boyfriend," retorted Prim with a blush.

Clove shrugged, not really caring about her relationship with her district partner. That was their business and who was she to intervene?

Prim would never have thought anyone would think that of her and Peeta, especially since she knew that Peeta loved her sister and no one else. He hadn't said anything to counteract that thought, and she doubted that it would ever change. "A-and how could he have thought that I would figure that out?" She asked incredulously. Again, she was by no means stupid, but she never would have picked up on it if Clove hadn't spelled it out for her. Cato had not hinted at anything of the sort, after all!

The doors opened, signaling their arrival at the second floor, and Clove stepped out, with Prim following behind her.

"Minds work differently, I guess." Clove said with a shrug, taking in the sight of an empty living room. She sat on the loveseat and motioned to the empty chairs for Prim to sit. She studied the young girl as she sat on one of the armchairs, wondering whether or not bringing a certain topic to light would be a smart move. She opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off by who would have been the topic of her and Prim's conversation.

"You're here." Cato said, hands in his pocket as he came into the living room from his bedroom. He didn't bother to hide the fact that his eyes raked over Prim's t-shirt- and shorts-clad body as he sat on another arm chair that was the only closest spot to his Rose's. He turned to Clove, voice cold as he glared at her, "Why didn't you call me?"

"Again, I'm not some Avox you can boss around, your royal ass-ness." Clove said with a roll of her eyes. Really, Cato had to understand that while she was willing to do things for him, it was because she was a friend, not some servant or – heaven forbid – a martyr. "Besides, who said that I can't get to know  _Rose_?" She knew using his name for her would push the right buttons. He had always been possessive when it came to certain aspects of things. Names concerning those he valued were one of them, as was proven when they had been together.

Cato pursed his lips, fists forming, letting Clove know that she was definitely winning this match with him. He hated that she knew him so well, and could read him like an open book without so much as batting an eye or lifting a finger. He understood that he could've probably done the same as well, but she – as usual – had more leverage than him.

Prim was left there, looking from one tribute to the other. She had found it admirable that Clove seemed so at ease with Cato, but she was also more than a bit worried. What if he snapped and lashed out at Clove? But surely, he wouldn't harm a friend! She watched them banter and soon found the room filling with the different members of District 2's team. When the mentors came, she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. She was basically a lamb in the lion's den, and she felt as if they would suddenly yell and then tackle her to the ground to kill her off. That would've made the chances of their district getting another Victor a bit higher, after all. When it didn't happen though, she released a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding.

When the show began, things died down, if only for a bit. She didn't quite understand how it happened, but in the middle of the show, Prim had somehow found herself out of the armchair and on the sofa – sandwiched between Cato and Brutus, both of whom took quite the amount of space thanks to their broad shoulders and muscled bodies. She felt completely awkward between the two, and she did her best not to lean back or slouch, seeing as doing one or the other would lead into some sort of contact with one of the two burly men on either side of her. By the time that the show was about to end though, Prim found herself being pulled in so that she was pressed up against Cato's side, his arm around her. Her eyes widened and she frantically looked around to see if anyone would help her out, only to meet Clove's amused expression and everyone else's backs. They didn't care about her. She was nothing but some girl from District Twelve, after all.

"And now we've come to the awaited part of our show," said the man on TV, gaining everyone's undivided attention. "The scores of the 74th Hunger Games Tributes shall now be revealed!"

And so the montage began.

Glimmer and Marvel earned 9's, to which no one really cared for.

Clove and Cato earned 10's, which made everyone in the room – bar Prim – cheer. (Prim had clapped politely, but that was the extent of her joy for them.)

District 3 tributes got a 7 and 4.

District 4 – Pan and Vox – got a 9 and 10, respectively.

Districts 5 to 10 got scattered scores of 6's and 7's and an occasional 5.

Rue earned a 7 while Thresh got a 10.

As Peeta's picture was shown and a bold 11 shown beside it, Prim couldn't help the way her eyes widened and the soft gasp that she made. She would have to congratulate him and ask what he had done. But she knew the downside of gaining such a high score. As her eyes traveled over to Cato and then Clove, she knew that once they entered the Arena, no matter what she did, Peeta would be a target. His score proved that he was worth something and could hold his own, and it would also surely have sponsors flocking to him.

And then her picture was flashed and an 11 came to view.

The silence that followed was deafening. Prim thought that it was worse than what had once transpired back at her floor, and to an extent, she was right. She was in a room filled with people who wouldn't doubt for a second that she was secretly planning everyone else's demise. No longer was she just a lamb in the lion's den. She was now a lamb being offered up to a  _starving_ pride of lions. Her eyes stayed glued to the screen even as the show finished and the credits began to roll.

There was nothing that she could do. She was in their territory and would easily be caught before she even tried to escape, especially with the arm around her shoulders so tense. It was the only reaction she felt – the way Cato's arm went completely rigid. She didn't know how long the silence lasted, but she was very thankful when Lyme stepped in to fill it.

"Well, congratulations, Primrose." The woman said, inclining her head slightly as she regarded Prim with a face void of emotion. The only response Prim managed to make was a nod of her head.

"I think it's time Prim went back to her floor. I'm sure she and her team would love to celebrate her and Peeta's score," said Clove abruptly, standing up. The girl had a feeling that the longer Prim stayed, the more agitated everyone would become. She eyed everyone wearily before she walked on over to Prim and pulled her up, causing the younger girl to stumble slightly. Clove was relieved to find that Cato wasn't going to put up a fight. She met his gaze briefly, and she had to do a double take to see if she had been mistaken at what she saw. By the next time she looked though, it was gone.

"Oh yes," said Enobaria, though her tone suggested that her mind was as far away from the room as can be. "I do think that Prim should be off." She waved, flashing a smile. "It was nice seeing and meeting you, Primrose Everdeen." It was said in such an airy manner that Prim would've thought that Enobaria was being genuine, until she took note of how stiff her posture was. Feeling a sense of foreboding, she nodded and followed quietly as Clove led her back to the elevator.

Prim opened her mouth to thank Clove, but was surprised when the dark-haired girl followed her inside.

"I'm not going to ask how you did it," said the older girl as the elevators closed. "I only want to say that I hope this doesn't mean you're leaving The Alliance." Her light brown eyes shown with genuine concern that caught Prim off guard as she watched the older girl that easily put up with Cato begin to shed off a few layers of her confidence. Why would it matter if she left them? "There are a lot of things you don't understand, Prim, and some of them are too precious for you to learn about now," continued Clove, an image of Cato and the emotion she saw in his eyes earlier flashing in her mind.

Prim felt an overwhelming sense of déjà vu at Clove's words. Hadn't she basically said the same thing to Peeta a few days back? Why was the world so confusing? And what was it that she didn't know?

"You being in that alliance with us helps keep a certain balance among things." She added, translating what she actually wanted to say in her mind;  _you keep Cato nearly stable_.

"A-alright," said Prim, wincing. Clove hadn't realized that she had seized Prim's shoulders and began shaking her until the blonde winced, and she sheepishly pulled away as a result. "I won't leave," continued Prim. "But I still wish that Peeta be given a swift death – should it come down to that." She explained. "I want a promise… from all of you guys."

Pursing her lips in thought, Clove closed her eyes just as the elevator doors opened. She didn't think about that. While she could promise Prim that Peeta wouldn't suffer at her hands, she couldn't say the same for everyone else – especially a certain hazel-eyed tribute. Just before the doors closed, she shouted her reply.

"Fine, I promise!"

She stood in the elevator idly for a moment, her finger hovering by the button that would take her to her floor. She wanted to talk to Prim still – to know what her thoughts were and at least get a glimpse of what Cato was falling into. She paused, rolling her eyes at her own thoughts. Prim was no object, no matter what Cato thought. She could neither be owned nor be used.

"You're falling, Cato," whispered Clove to the empty elevator as she pressed the button aptly labeled 2. "And I thought your family would be your demise." She chuckled. "It turns out, it all ends with emotions." She sighed. "And to think that Primrose Everdeen is so unaware too."

She was sure of it now. The emotion that flashed in Cato's eyes earlier was heartbroken betrayal. He had felt, without a doubt, betrayed by Primrose.

* * *

Prim was relieved when Clove had said that she agreed, and she looked around to find that everyone in the room has turned their attention to her. Disliking the feeling of being under scrutiny, she found herself blushing and shifting her weight from one foot to another rather awkwardly. She tilted her head to the side, her gaze gravitating towards the man she felt most comfortable with in that moment – Haymitch.

"Uh…" she began rather dumbly. "Hi." Her eyes then flicked over to Peeta, and she smiled. "I saw your score." She said, her grin honest and heartfelt. "Congratulations! I'm sure you'll get lots of sponsors because of that."

And then the most peculiar thing happened, smiles began to form and one by one, they began to clap. Portia was first, closely followed by Cinna and the rest of the Prep Team. Effie and Haymitch did the same, both of whom had full blown grins on their faces. Peeta and Prim looked at them, touched by their reaction.

Prim began to walk towards them and was met halfway by Peeta, who took her in his arms and spun her around, causing her to squeal and then break out into giggles. It was as if the awkwardness – from her floor and the other – from earlier had vanished instantly, and she was back where she belonged; she was back to the place she felt safe. The lamb was with her flock once again.


	16. The Difference

Chapter Sixteen – The Difference

* * *

The moment that Prim and Clove stepped into the elevator, chaos erupted within the confines of the 2nd floor living area, and Cato was right in the middle of it – watching everything unfold with an unreadable expression. He would wait until Clove returned before he spoke. She would be the best person to talk to in that moment. With a yawn, his eyes darted from one person to another as they spoke. It was like watching a tennis match with six participants instead of two or four. He'd be lying if he said he actually cared what they thought.

"She got an eleven!"  _Brutus._

"No duh, Mr. Obvious."  _Enobaria._

"How can she get a score like that? I don't think it's ever been done!"  _Achilee_.

"She's not the only one to get it – her partner did too!"  _Celia._

"Maybe she really is a Johanna… They both are!"  _Tomper._

"If she were a Johanna, then she wouldn't have done so well."  _Achilee._

"Then what else could she be?"  _Celia._

"A natural-born killer, maybe."  _Enobaria_.

"Either way, she won't win – no matter what her score indicates."  _Tomper._

"Cato will take care of her."  _Brutus._

"And if he doesn't?"  _Achilee._

That had captured Cato's attention. His eyes narrowed as his hazel orbs focused solely on Achilee. Who was this puny Capitolian to question him? This man thought he knew everything about the games just because he's been a representative for who knew how long. Well, Cato would love to show him just how wrong he was. He wasn't some pawn that people could use. He was his own person and he would make sure Achilee Doug knew that. The Capitol be damned, he was not some piece to their game.

"CATO STOP!"

Snapping out of his thoughts, Cato was surprised to find that he was no longer sitting down. He was standing, a hand wrapped around Achilee's throat while the other was clenched into a fist. When had he moved? His grip didn't loosen as he turned around to look for the origin of the voice, and that was the only time that he realized a hand was on his arm, stopping him from punching the worthless man in his hand. He traced the hand to a body and was surprised to find himself looking into the narrowed eyes of Lyme. He could see now just how intimidating the woman can be, but he was by no means backing down. If anything, the fact that he was being stopped from doing something only fueled his desire to pummel Achilee.

"Not worth it," said Lyme, her voice void of emotion even as her brows furrowed. "What would beating him do?" She asked. "It wouldn't change the fact that Primrose and Peeta got 11's, that they seem to be stronger or better than they let on, that you and Clove better watch your back, or that no matter what happens – unless you kill him – Achilee will be back."

Cato's jaw clenched. She was right. Of course she was. She was a Victor and it meant that she was intelligent to an extent, and out of the three of the District Two Victors, Cato thought that perhaps Lyme was the most intelligent… or at least the most rational. With a growl, he shoved Achilee away, causing the man to stumble and eventually fall to the floor, gasping for air. Honestly, Cato thought he was overreacting. He hadn't been holding him nearly as tightly as he had done so with Clove a couple of nights ago.

"You don't know what I'm capable of," spat Cato, not bothering to look at Achilee. He wasn't just talking to him anymore. He was addressing everyone – and their doubts about him. "I'll kill whoever gets in my way." He continued. "I don't give a fuck about who it is or what they are." And they all understood that he meant it. Perhaps he wouldn't kill them there and then, but if they ever made the mistake of turning their back on him or belittling him in anyway, they knew that there would be consequences – Cato would see to it.

The air that hung around everyone was a level above tense, and with the ding of the elevator bell, Cato was the only one to move to acknowledge Clove's entrance. He watched as she stepped out of the mechanism which took them to the different floors and took note of the dazed look on her face. What was on her mind? He took a deep breath in and plopped himself down onto the nearest seat, letting his breath blow out as he reconstructed his mask of calm and confidence.

"So I take it everyone up there's celebrating?" Cato asked conversationally, acting as if the past two minutes had not occurred at all. Everyone, bar Clove, was watching him cautiously, wondering if he would snap again and lash out at them.

Before Clove could respond, Enobaria spoke, saying, "Now why don't we leave these two to talk and we can all discuss what's for dinner and what our plans would be for the interviews, alright?" She ushered everyone out, with the prep team following obediently. She helped Achilee to wherever it was they were going, and Lyme pulled Brutus by the wrist. Cato didn't really care where they were, as long as they didn't bother him. He watched them go before turning his attention back to Clove, who was standing there looking rather out of place and confused.

"What happened in here?" She asked, taking a seat on the sofa and propping her legs up across the length of it. She ran a hand through her hair, tousling it. "Wait, don't tell me," said she with a frown, her entire face scrunching up as she thought of the possible scenarios that had happened in the brief time she wasn't there. "You or Brutus went berserk and someone got a little too close." She said derisively, raising a brow at Cato and daring him to refute her.

"You know me so well." He deadpanned with a roll of his eyes. "Now, what were they doing when you got there?" He asked again, not liking the fact that she had ignored him the first time. His mind was playing tricks on him, letting him see the different things he  _didn't_  want happening when Clove took Prim back to her floor. Peeta engulfing Prim in a hug and kissing her lips… Perhaps everyone on their team cheering them on… Prim reciprocating… "Damn it Clove, I asked you a fucking question!" He snarled, glaring at Clove, who was returning his glare with as much heat as he gave.

"And if you were listening, you would have heard me say that they weren't doing anything!" She spat. "You're slacking, Cato. You used to be able to listen without any effort.  _Rose_  really affects you this much?" She taunted, knowing that it would get a rise out of Cato.

"Don't call her that." He growled. "Only  _I_  call her that." He pulled himself up and stood, glaring down at her. "And what do you mean I'm slacking? I'm damn sure that I can still wipe the floor with you." He countered, fists clenched at his side. A little more and he'll probably end up either breaking something or hurting someone.

Clove, not one to back down, stood up as well. She didn't hesitate in invading Cato's personal space as she sauntered up to him. The top of her head just about reached his nose, and she tilted her head up so that she could look him in the eye properly. They stood like that for a while, before her gaze softened a bit and his turned into one of confusion.

"She's different, Cato." She said finally. And just like that, it was as if they were transported to a time a year ago, when they had decided to break up.

" _So this is how it ends?" Cato asked Clove as they stood on the Hadwell's front porch. He was leaning against the house's wall, right beside the huge wooden doors that led into the house. Arms crossed over his chest and head angled down, his gaze did not leave his shoes. How had they come to this?_

_Clove sighed as she turned from looking out at the yard. Her hands rested at the rails and her head was thrown back slightly so that some rays of sunlight hit her just so. Her eyes flicked over to study him from beneath her lashes. He was a blurry figure against the rather bright lighting, and she found a small smile appearing on her face despite the somber atmosphere between and around them._

" _The romantic aspect, sure." She said finally. "But like all the clichés we've talked shit about, I still want to be your friend." She smirked, thinking of all the times they had judged people who ended romantic relationships with hopes of becoming friends. It was humbling to see that they had been mistaken. Like everyone who thought they were perfect for each other, they had forgotten the one thing Clove was willing to overlook – Cato wasn't any ordinary person. He didn't think along the same lines anyone else did. He was born an innocent and then trained to be a killer. When one threw in every other bad luck that had been thrown at him, Clove knew it would take someone phenomenal to bring back even just a smidge of the Cato she had once known._

_Cato's eyes closed reflexively. It was his equivalent for a wince. He didn't want that. He didn't want to be friends. They were a team – the best there was! She knew that and he knew that and everyone else that mattered knew that, but then she was also right. What kind of relationship did they have? A very violent one, that's what. When one of them got pissed – usually him – they wouldn't hesitate to harm the other, knowing they could put up with it. It would've been fine if they took care of the other or apologized afterwards. But they didn't. Well, Clove did. She took care of him and apologized and made sure he was alright, despite the fact that he never reciprocated those things._

_He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked up to meet her beautifully expressive brown eyes. He was never good at reading emotions with just eyes. And even now, he had no idea how she felt. He didn't speak, opting to just stare into her eyes. Maybe he would find something there._

" _Does that mean you don't want to be friends?" Clove asked, raising a brow. She supposed she could live with that. It would be sad though. She has been friends with him for as long as she could remember, and she was pretty sure everyone expected them to end things nastily as opposed to the sensible talk they were having. She pursed her lips, shoulders sagging in defeat._

_The silence that ensued was unlike any other that they've experience while in each other's presence. It was simply deafening and unwanted, much like Cato's view of their conversation._

" _I guess I can deal with that." He finally said after a while. "I can't say I'll be happy about it – even if it does mean more women for me – but I guess I owe you this much…" he paused, tearing his gaze away from her. A soft blush dusted across his cheeks, unused to the thoughts he was about to speak. "For everything." He continued, "Thanks." As the words tumbled out of his mouth, he expected Clove to do one of a handful of things – to smile and then hug him, or to say_ you're welcome _, or even to laugh or roll her eyes and say_ about time _. True to being Clove though, she surprised him when she said things he didn't expect to ever hear from her._

" _You'll find it." She said adamantly. "I'm not sure whether it's a him or her, but you'll find it." She smiled up at him and even though he wasn't looking at her, he saw the flash of pearly whites from his peripheral. "We aren't too different when it comes to what we want – or need – in someone. The person should be able to tolerate us and challenge us at the same time. The person should know how to appeal to our rather_ different _mindset and to our hearts as well. And for you… that person needs to be different." She mused thoughtfully, pushing herself off of the rails to walk over to him._

_Clove took his wrists into her hands and untangled his arms. She held both his hands in each of her own, smiling._

" _She –_ or he _– needs to be different." Clove continued, "We both know you think differently. In spite of all of our training, you're still above everyone. There's no doubt you'll win the games when you participate, and when you're declared the Victor, you'll be exposed to so many people that we could only hope you meet the one perfect for you." She lifted one of his hands and pressed her lips to his knuckles, his intense gaze finally settled on her when she did so. "That person will be able to put up with you and get a rise out of you a-"_

" _Like you," grunted Cato. After all, wasn't that what Clove did – has been doing – for him? An amused smile touched his lips when Clove rolled her eyes. Being cut off from her train of thought or her words had always been a pet peeve of hers, and he closed his lips tightly as a sign to let her continue._

" _No." Clove shook her head, rejoicing when she glanced at the confusion that was oh so clear on her friend's face. "I don't get a rise out of you, Cato. I taunt you and hurt you – I anger you and there's a difference! When I say the person would be able to get a rise out of you, I meant that they would be able to get you to actually_ feel _again. I know you love me and I know that I have no reason to doubt that, but believe me when I say when you find that one person who can get your head so consumed by them alone and get your emotions so mixed up that your mask slips from time to time… That'd mean it's real, Cato." She stood on her toes to kiss his forehead, and his eyes closed at the contact._

" _Since when did you become an expert?" He asked, snorting. He looked so uncaring that had she not known him for as long as she had, she would've been hurt. But she did. And she saw that he was fighting to hide a smirk, and he squeezed her hand – which meant that despite what he said and how he acted at times; he did care._

 _She smirked, "You'd be surprised by the things that I know of, Cato." She winked at him before laughing. "But seriously? I_ know _because I know you." She let his hands go, taking a couple of steps back before turning to face the front yard. "I know that you aren't one to express how you feel with words and that you prefer action over anything else. You would never give anyone false information unless you had anything to gain from it and that you're ruthless and can and will hurt whoever gets in the way of your agenda. You hate being compared to anyone and like it when people tell you how you'll be a Victor for sure. You have control over your emotions and never let anyone in because you don't like giving anyone the power to hurt you. You have walls that go higher than the ones around the district – maybe even higher than the tallest tree – and I don't think anyone's ever seen what's behind it aside from me." She inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of flowers from the bushes nearby._

" _But most of all," began Clove once more, closing her eyes and smiling serenely. "When you set your mind on doing something, you don't stop until you accomplish it." Her eyes fluttered open and she ran a hand through her hair. "But then you'll find yourself breaking most – if not all – of the things that I've just pointed out – all because of whoever you'll love." Even with her back to him, she could clearly picture him tense at the last word._

" _What makes you think that I'll even…?" Cato didn't continue. He didn't have to. She understood what he meant, knew why he hesitated and disliked the word and the feelings attached to it. Love had been his father's downfall, had it not? Who's to say it wouldn't be his as well?_

" _Unlike what you and others believe – you_ are _human, Cato." She said dryly, rolling her eyes."You know what? Whoever you fall for – they're going to be my best friend and I'll make sure they never leave you or hurt you! Especially if it's so they can be with someone else." She took a couple of steps forward, placing an appropriate amount of distance between them._

" _You'd stop them from being with someone else?" Cato asked incredulously. He knew how concerned Clove was whenever it came to those types of things, and he couldn't help but wonder if she would really push through with it. "What if they didn't think the same of me?"_

" _But that's the beauty of it!" She said. "When they're the one – they'll_ feel _it too. You won't be the only one confused. They'll be in as much shit as you are. You'll go through things together."_

"Do you still think we're better off together?" Clove asked, taking note of the clarity that had come over him. She smiled, glad to have gotten through to him without much use for words.

Cato, fists clenched at his sides, took a step to the side and walked past her without another word. He entered the elevator and nearly punched the button to head to the Training Room. He needed to let out some steam. Some girl was not going to bring about his downfall. Even if it was his Rose.

* * *

**PRIM**

When the congratulations and impromptu celebration finished, Prim found herself left with Peeta, Effie, and Haymitch as company. Cinna, Portia, and the rest of the Prep Team had left to discuss some things regarding the interviews. What about? Prim had no idea. She sat on the sofa, with Haymitch to her right, Peeta on an arm chair and Effie in the loveseat.

"Now," began Haymitch. "Since you two will be coached separately, Effie and I have divided your times. When one of you is working with me, the other one better be with Effie, working on your  _interview etiquette_." The mocking way in which he had spoken the last few words was not lost on anyone, and Prim and Peeta smiled even as Effie frowned and rolled her eyes. "Even if you don't care about what the Capitol think of you, you're going to have to do as we say – we're keeping you alive, after all." He said humorlessly.

The sullenness that wafted into the room was expected, thanks to Haymitch's statement, but it didn't mean it was anymore welcome than it had ever been. It was nice for everyone, however, that the one, who started it, was the one who stopped it as well.

"And since I still think we should celebrate some more," said Haymitch, standing up. "I'm going to get myself a drink. Anyone want to join me?" He offered, looking around the room for any takers on his offer. Prim watched as Peeta seemed to consider, only to have Effie refute his chance as she spoke.

"What are you thinking?" Effie scoffed. "Why would you offer minors alcohol?"

Everyone looked at her blankly. Prim was wondering the same thing, and Haymitch looked like he wanted to call Effie out for even existing. It was to Prim's relief when Peeta replied. She didn't really want to witness an argument. She never did and never will. She disliked conflict most of the time.

"I don't think Haymitch mentioned anything about alcohol, Effie." Peeta pointed out politely. Prim replayed their mentor's words in her head, and realized that Peeta was right. Haymitch had only mentioned  _getting a drink_. Perhaps alcohol was implied, but her never outright said that he was offering alcohol to Peeta and Prim.

Haymitch raised a brow, daring Effie to counter Peeta. "Really, Effie,  _loosen your corset_ , and learn to pay attention to what people actually say." He said, winking at Prim playfully which made the young girl smile. She was glad that didn't escalate into anything more. At least she'd proven to herself that she could go through a day without witnessing any type of violence – apart from what was showed on TV that is.

"I think I'll go to my room and take a shower before supper." Prim said, standing to do just as she said.


	17. Enlightenment

Chapter Seventeen – Enlightenment

* * *

The beautiful night sky was the perfect view, thought Peeta as he eyed the computer-generated scene before him. The star-filled sky sparkled like the gems that adorned Effie in all the times that he'd seen her, and Peeta sighed as he exited his room. He preferred the roof. At least there he could see the real stars. But then, thought he bitterly, perhaps that was a fake too. With the technology that the Capitol, had, he wouldn't be surprised if it was.

In order to get to the roof, he had to pass by the door to Prim's room, and he was surprised when she left her room around the same time he was walking by. He smiled, glad to be able to talk to her away from everybody else.

"Hey," said Peeta. "What's up?" He asked conversationally as he took in her lithe body covered by silk pajamas that was the color of Seam eyes. He looked down at his own attire; a white cotton shirt with colorful prints, a pair of sweatpants the color of seaweed, and then slippers.

Prim rubbed at her eyes despite them being neither tired nor sleepy. "I was just about to go out for some air." She replied. "You?"

Peeta shrugged and offered a hand to her so that they could easily maneuver around the place even with the dim lighting. He was so used to it, having done so for nearly every night. "The same." He said, just as she took his silent invitation to join him.

They reached the rooftop in under two minutes, all the while looking over their shoulder so as not to be caught and be sent back to their rooms. As much as they cared for the team they were blessed with, they rather did prefer the comforts of talking to someone from home.

They were both leaning on the railings with their arms, a good three inches between them.

"Congratulations on your score." Peeta said after a moment of silence. "I don't think I was able to say it earlier – with all the celebration and…yeah." He said thoughtfully. "People would be stupid not to be lining up to sponsor you."

"Me? They should sponsor you!" Prim exclaimed, turning her head to face him; she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You must've blown them away with your skills." She gushed. "I'm sure Katniss would've been proud of you – if I had let her volunteer." She said softly. She still felt guilty about telling him that he wouldn't have stood a chance with Katniss, and was doing her best to atone for it.

Peeta shook his head. "I don't think so." He said honestly. "Anger fueled my session, Prim. I'm pretty sure that wouldn't have been the case if Katniss was in your position." He paused, prying his attention from the stars to look at his companion. "I think…" He smiled tentatively. "I think I like that you didn't let her volunteer." He admitted, a light blush dusting over his cheeks, something that went completely unnoticed by Prim. "I don't think I would've been able to talk to her the same way I could you."

Surprised at his admission, Prim's eyes widened considerably before her expression dissolved into that of confusion, "What makes you say that?" She asked.

"I guess your words have been on my mind more than I'd admit." He closed his eyes, resting his head on his arms as he exhaled. It was the truth. Ever since Prim's outburst, Peeta had been considering her words carefully. Yes, perhaps he had been idealistic. How could he have been so naïve as to think that he would've been able to save Prim from the games? And then he  _had_  recalled considering Katniss' reaction in the equation. Would she think any different from him if he did somehow save her sister? But then, so what? Saving Prim meant death, and what could Katniss do to show her gratefulness then? She couldn't be with him, that was for sure. So why had he even considered it? Because he loved her?

"You were right." He said finally. "I was being stupid in thinking that Katniss could ever love me." He swallowed the lump in his throat as he opened his eyes. "Especially now. How could she ever love someone who's been such a jerk to her sister?" He asked rhetorically. "But more than that, you really were right. Katniss barely even noticed me – apart from the time I  _literally_  tossed her the bread. What would even make her look at me twice?"

"Hey, you were a good kind of jerk!" Prim countered, and they shared a laugh at that. "You only said those things because you wanted to protect me, right?" She saw him nod and she smiled, moving closer to nudge his arm with her own. She stayed clear of the second part of his words. She knew she was right on that part, but didn't want to rub it in.

"You know, I never realized it, but apart from what I've seen of your sister in school and what I've heard of her from other people, I never really knew her." He said pensively. "I guess the power of suggestion really is something." He said with a sigh.

"The power of suggestion?" She asked curiously, a brow raised as she regarded him. What was he talking about?

"I first saw your sister on the first day of school." He said, a faraway look in his blue orbs. "She looked alright in her plain-looking clothes and her hair in braids. My father had taken me to school that day, because it was tradition in our family, and when he laid eyes on your mother he told me of how he once loved her."

Prim's eyes widened. Her mother never mentioned that! But then again, up until recently, Prim wasn't entirely sure what her mother was like before her father's death. Her memories were beginning to blur together, and small details like her father's scent were beginning to fade like she always understood it would.

"Of course, I asked him why he didn't marry her. And you know what he said?" Peeta chuckled. "He told me that your father had captured your mother's heart before he could've even done anything, because when your father sang, everyone and everything listened. He might've been a baker, but he knew that your mother would only ever marry for love, and not for status." He looked at Prim for a while. He placed an arm around her, pulling her to his side. "And then when class started and the teacher asked for someone to volunteer to sing the anthem, Katniss' hand was the first to rise and she was called on to sing."

"Let me guess? You fell in love with her then?" Prim asked. She knew of Katniss' and her father's beautiful singing voices, of course, it was a gift she hadn't been blessed with. Her smile was curious and teasing at the same time.

"That's the thing." Peeta said, his hold on Prim slackening, which prompted her to put an arm around his waist and rest her head on his arm – for that was where she could reach. "I thought it was love." He looked down at Prim, turning so that he could pull her in for a proper hug. "But with your help, I can see it now." He smiled, "It was admiration. First I admired her talent. She was a great singer and a beautiful girl – maybe a little thin, but I understood. When your father died, I admired her independence and perseverance. And now, I admire her bravery. I'm sure that she'll be watching you every step of the way, Prim."

Prim pulled away from him and stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. "You can imagine that it was Katniss that did that." She said with a smile. "I'm sorry that you realized you didn't love her the way used to think you did. I think everybody deserves a chance at love." Her genuine way of speaking had Peeta smiling and the innocent kiss to his cheek wasn't even that big of a deal to them. It was a sign of affection between friends. Nothing more.

A viewer thought differently though.

Cato's fist clenched as he watched the two from afar. Did they think him an idiot? He may not have heard their conversation, but from what he could see, it was an intimate one. He would have let it slide, but then she had placed an arm around him and then kissed his cheek! She had initiated everything. A growl escaped him as he turned to head back to his floor. He had gone out to get some fresh air after some after-hours training only to discover his Rose in the arms of another.

His thirst for that bastard's blood had reached a new level. The only thing he had to worry about was making sure that Prim didn't find out that he was considering breaking his promise, because he might just either kill Peeta the moment he's able, or draw out his death for as long as possible.


	18. The Interviews

Chapter Eighteen – The Interviews

* * *

Preparations for the interviews flew by in Prim's opinion. Her time was spent between three people. She would be training with Haymitch at one point and then talking to and learning etiquette from Effie the next. And between all those, she would be with Cato and Clove – though mostly the latter, seeing as Cato seemed to have made it his mission to ignore her. She honestly wanted to say that she was happy about it, but there was something about the fact that he just so suddenly stopped being interested in her after the scores was announced that had her guard up. He could just as easily be plotting her demise, after all.

"Prim, Angel, dear," said Effie, bending slightly so that she was eye-level with the younger girl. "Come back to reality! You still don't have the hang of walking in heels yet." She reprimanded in her shrill Capitol accent, snapping Prim away from her thoughts.

Prim's gaze easily slid from Effie's eyes to her own feet. They were encased in a pair of five-inch silver heels, and she idly wondered why in the world women would want to wear this sort of thing. Why must they put themselves through so much just for the sake of aesthetic beauty? She took a couple of hesitant steps forward and smiled beautifully when she didn't fall or trip. She looked up to be met with Effie's disappointed stare.

The older woman sighed and twirled one of Prim's braids in between her fingers gently. "Angel, you have to conquer that fear and walk normally. You looked like an awkward little girl on her first period a while ago." She moved to stand behind Prim, "Now, stand straight and keep you head held high." After making sure that Prim had the right posture, Effie went around and took Prim's hands in her own. "Now, close your eyes and let me lead you. Don't worry," she looked up and was glad to find Cinna enter the room. "Cinna and I will be here to catch you if you fall."

And then she took one step back, prompting Prim to take one forward.

And another.

And another.

And soon, Prim found herself walking elegantly around the room with her eyes open and a pleasant smile on her face. She was still nervous about the whole thing, especially since she felt that she might suddenly slip, but the fact that they had promised they'll be there to help her out was good enough for her. She trusted them.

* * *

Sitting in the waiting room dressed in a flowing white gown that gathered in her waist before pooling out until it ended just by her knees, Prim tried her hardest not to move too much for fear of destroying the intricate and stylish bun that kept her hair from being down and over her face or any other part of her body. Pearls decorated the bodice of the gown in magnificent curls, and there were small white flowers whose name escaped Prim that decorated the hem of her dress. Some glitter had been added to her face and shoulders, and her makeup was based off of light shades. Two longs strips of a very thin fabric hung from her mid back to her feet, and she had absolutely no idea about what they could be for.

The Anthem played, and then before she knew it, the interviews had begun. First up came Glimmer, who acted cute, bubbly, and confident – an endearing combination that she pulled off alongside her  _shimmering_  dress.

Marvel was next, and was rather cool about the whole thing as he and Caesar Flickerman spoke of light and jovial topics before shifting into the direction of the games.

When Clove came on, Prim's lips curved into a smile as she took in how beautiful her friend – for that was how Clove has been treating her – looked. Yes, she knew that perhaps considering Clove a friend would be bad, but the entire idea of the games was pure madness. She didn't see any harm in fueling the flames a bit. After all, who would expect a friendship to blossom or stay intact while in the arena or as they prepared for the games? Clove and Cato were proof that people could still remain friends through all that, and Prim was determined to show them that friendship can bloom as well.

After Clove came Cato, and she thought him utterly handsome as he walked in confident strides over towards Caesar. He smiled at the camera and Prim could have sworn that she heard ladies swoon. Her own heart gave a little flutter, and a light blush crept on to her cheeks - she didn't know herself why she would find him the least bit attractive when he's been such a manipulative jerk to her.

* * *

"So, Cato, how has training been so far?" Caesar asked him amicably, after having taken a seat. Cato smiled, propping his right ankle on his left knee comfortably. This was the moment he had been looking forward to. Being in front of the cameras and the crowd, and letting them see just who the next Victor would be.

He chuckled, "Well, I can't say I'm doing anything different from my usual routine." The audience laughed at that, and Cato could just feel his ego grow.

"Oh? Well does that mean that you have a little lady back home as well?" Caesar asked conversationally, a perfectly-plucked brow rose in curiosity. "There've been leaks of your and our Fire Angel's relationship." He continued, "It seems that you two are more than just friends, especially when Peacekeepers have been said to have had to take you away from one Peeta Mellark."

And Cato could've just seen the perfect picture in his head of how this interview was supposed to go slowly crumble. He didn't think he'd be talking about anyone other than himself and perhaps Clove. He never thought that they'd air such things about him and his Rose. He made a note to himself to get rid of whoever sold that information. What went on between him and his Rose where between them – no matter what he had seen before. Peeta Mellark could bend over and die, and he wouldn't give a fuck as to how it affected his Rose – so long as he still had her. He hadn't practiced for this, and so had no idea what to say. Deciding to act on impulse, he said the first thing to come to mind.

"What Rose and I have is  _different_." He said firmly, his and Clove's conversation from the day before repeating in his head. "Peeta had no idea about it, and thought that I was hurting her." He was pleased when he didn't spit Peeta's name out, especially when he recalled what he had witnessed a few days back. That would have been a dead giveaway that something was up, and so he went on. "And no, there's no one for me back home. I came unattached."

"And what if you and Rose were left in the arena? Would you kill her?" Caesar pressed on, knowing that he would get a good scoop of hot news from the fellow before him. He knew their type. Cocky and overconfident – they thought they knew everything. It was why Caesar loved playing an overly curious host when it came to them. Throwing them off their game was always fun.

"Of course," replied Cato without missing a beat. He didn't like Caesar calling her Rose, but he would let it slide – if only to appear amicable and gain sponsors. "This is the games, after all." But there was something that told him he had no idea what he was talking about. Cato knew that avoiding Rose may not have been the best solution to his mixed up brain, and Clove had been right on a lot of points. He couldn't keep her out of his mind. But he still refused to believe that what he's feeling is more than a passing attraction.

"Alright then," said Caesar happily, "Now what is it like entering the game with your friend Clove? I hear you two were good friends!"

* * *

The Interview went on, but Prim wasn't listening anymore. Her blood had run cold the moment that Cato had so easily said that yes, he would kill her.  _Without a doubt, he would_. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She shouldn't have been surprised. What had she expected? That he would kill himself and let her live? HA! The chances of that happening were more unlikely than Peeta falling out of love with her sister.

Speaking of whom, she looked at him and his bored figure as he sat in an arm chair, watching the TV. What did he think of Cato's words? Was he affected at all by them? She and Peeta hadn't talked much after their separation of coaching schedule, seeing as most of her free time was spent with Clove and Cato. Despite that though, she thought that she could still talk to him. He simply had this aura about him that made him approachable. It was a wonderful feeling – to know that he's always there as someone she could talk to.

She stood up, momentarily feeling proud of herself for not stumbling, before walking on over to Peeta. She took a seat on the arm of the chair, which was just low enough so that she could sit rather comfortably. "How do you feel?" She asked.

"I think you mean  _'how are you feeling?'_ " Peeta said with a roll of his eyes before sending Prim a smile that told her he was kidding. "Effie would have our heads if we spoke incorrectly. I think she wants us to get their accent to." He said, whispering everything quickly, as if they were afraid of being caught. A silence that lasted for about three seconds stopped abruptly as they burst out laughing.

"Oh I'm sorry, but I assumed this was the right way to speak." Prim said snobbishly, in a poor attempt at the Capitol accent. They laughed some more, both feeling better than they had originally felt. It was nice to laugh with each other – helped them feel less alone about the entire charade.

"But really," began Prim anew. "Are you feeling any better than before?" She asked, both eyes widening and brows arching higher expectantly. She really did care about how he felt. They were friends, after all. Or at least, she still viewed him as such. There was no guarantee that he saw her as the same; she wished he did.

Peeta's eyes moved from the blank space below the overhead television to Prim. She looked beautiful in her dress, and he had told her so earlier, to which she thanked him before replying that he looked handsome as well. He considered her question. Was he feeling any better? No. But was his feelings now different from before? Yes. Most definitely. Cato had just gone and openly claimed that Prim wasn't anyone of importance to him! He had said that he would be willing to finish her off, and the thought, while predictable, did not sit well with the son of the baker.

"I still don't like that I can't protect you from him, if that's what you want to know." Peeta admitted with a sigh. He held her gaze, not quite liking the anxiety within her blue orbs. She was too wonderful to be tainted. And he doesn't just mean Cato anymore, either. Peeta had come to realize that even he could dirty the pristine beauty of Primrose. He had views that she had probably never considered. He disliked the Capitol and thought them utterly horrible, and while she seemed to share his dislike for the games, he doubted that she had as much disdain for it as he did. He hated how barbaric the games were, while she perhaps hated it only because it took her away from her family. He assumed that she probably never thought deeper than that. He thought no one did.

She closed her eyes and sighed as well, before opening them once more and placing a hand on his shoulder, twisting so that her leg was pressed rather intimately to his. She found that she didn't mind much physicality when it came to Peeta, but coming from everyone else, she was still very much apprehensive and refrained from initiating contact – especially with Cato. In fact, she had never initiated any type of contact with him.

"There's nothing you can do." She reminded him gently. Her voice sounded softer than it really was, given that the silence in the room resonated as they regarded only each other. The TV had been left turned on and unnoticed by the occupants. "I've chosen to stay with them."  _For you_. She thought as she tried to portray her thoughts with her eyes alone. She didn't want to let him know. She had a feeling he wouldn't like it, but he had to suck it up. She was going to do her best to help Peeta live as long as he could in that arena – no matter what kind of environment it was.

Peeta frowned. "And that's the thing – you don't even tell me why." He looked away, swallowing audibly. He didn't like where this was going, but knew that they had to talk about it – if only for his own sanity. "Do you like him?" He asked, fearing that the answer would be yes.

There was a pause.

Prim had no idea how to approach the question. Was it considered liking someone if you were indifferent to them? She by no means liked Cato. After what he did to her, she didn't think it was possible! But when she saw flashes of emotions in his eyes and face, she had a feeling that perhaps there was more to him than what he let others see. So it left her feeling that he didn't outright dislike him either. She disliked some of his actions, but not necessarily him as a person. And she repeated the question in her head.

Did she like Cato?

No. Not in the way Peeta was probably thinking. But then, not necessarily in a platonic way either. She simply acknowledged that he existed and had done some less than becoming things, and that was perhaps the extent of how she saw him. He was no science project that she wanted to dissect. Yes, figuring out how his thoughts and views would be lovely, but she had no intention of doing anything to actually gain those insights regarding him. She was in the games to basically be killed off. Who was she kidding? She had no chance.

"I don't really care for him." She replied, and the quirk in Peeta's lips made her relax. She was reminded of the way her heart had stuttered earlier, but she ignored it. She felt as if she had reentered a sanctuary named Peeta's confidants, and only the most privileged can enter. She could just see and feel the wall that had erupted between them slowly begin to dissipate just by her admission alone. "Hey Peeta?" She watched as the female tribute of District 6 left the screen to be replaced by the male tribute of the same district. "How did you get that eleven?" She asked.

Peeta had known it was coming, but hadn't thought that she would ask it now of all the times. He resisted the urge to run a hand through his styled hair. Portia would have his head if he ruined her work. And then his Prep Team would have every other part of him. With a groan, he recounted what had taken place during his Private Session.

* * *

_Peeta entered the room and immediately looked up at the booth where the Gamemakers resided. They seemed to be distracted, but once he stood before them, they turned their attention to him. He bowed slightly, which seemed more like a tip of his head than anything._

" _Peeta Mellark," said he. "District 12." With that, he turned and went on to grab the weights. A minute into the session, Peeta found that the Gamemakers were beginning to lose focus. He frowned, feeling utterly annoyed. How dare they? They go and tear children from their families and then have the audacity to not even pay them a bit of attention as they tried to raise their chances of survival in a totally brutal and horrendous way of showing who was in power?! His blue eyes turned cold as he realized that if he barely had their attention, what more of Prim?_

_Holding tightly onto the heaviest weight he could carry, he lifted it before throwing it right at a dummy meant for the knife-throwing station. The dummy went off of its place and barely missed another as it fell to the floor. And suddenly it wasn't just about his anger at them anymore. He took another weight and did the same, causing a huge dent ot appear on one of the dummies._

_His hatred for the Capitol._

_His dislike of Cato._

_His frustration with being unable to protect someone he deeply cares about._

_His anger at feeling so incompetent._

_Peeta didn't wait to see what the Gamemakers thought of his little improvision as he headed straight for the Camouflage Station._

_There, he made quick work of the different pastes, berries, and materials to make it so that his arm was nearly undecipherable when he placed it against a fake tree. When he saw that they were finally looking at – or at least looking_ for _– him, he stepped out into view and went to spear throwing. He hit nearly every target, a good three out of five hitting the different bull's eyes._

_When he finished, he looked up at them and bowed deeply, his chest heaving as his lungs and heart fought to supply every inch of his body with the necessary amount of oxygen. They dismissed him rather tentatively. Well, at least he knew they wouldn't make the same mistake of overlooking or ignoring anyone._

* * *

"Oh wow." Prim said incredulously. She honestly couldn't fathom the mere thought of Peeta bursting out the way he had described it, but then there was also a part of her that whispered her delight in having something in similar with Peeta. They had basically done something that ensured they would be noticed not just by the Gamemakers, but by every possible sponsor as well.

With a shrug, Peeta made no other comment. He didn't want to talk about it. He was afraid of what Prim would think of him. Would she have more reason to want nothing to do with him? He licked his lips, tasting the strawberry gloss that Renata, one of the members of his Prep Team, had applied earlier. He tapped his fingers on the free arm of the chair they were in, and opened his mouth to ask how she got her score when the door opened to reveal Haymitch and Cinna.

"Peeta," said Haymitch gruffly, and Prim saw that there was an air of pure sobriety around him. She suspected that he hadn't had any kind of spirit in two days. "A word." He said, eyes flashing to Prim and then back to Peeta. "Outside," he tacked on, before leaving the room abruptly. Peeta was quick to follow after bidding Prim a see you later and a good luck.

With Cinna and Prim left alone in the sparsely decorated room, Prim's eyes refocused on the TV, where the male tribute of District 8 spoke of his life back at the aforementioned place.

"Are you nervous, Angel?" Cinna asked, taking Peeta's place and seating himself quite comfortably on the plush chair. Opening her mouth to respond in the affirmative, Cinna cut her off, though she could see that he wasn't being rude. He had simply asked the question rhetorically, and Prim listened as he spoke. "I chose your district, you know." The way in which he said it caught Prim off guard. He had said the words softly, as if he were recounting a memory of long ago – too precious to be talked about in passing. Keeping her thoughts for later, Prim let Cinna go on. "Being a new stylist, we tend to be left to pick the district that we get to design last. Portia and I were left with the choice of District 5, 7, and 12. We immediately went for 12, and everyone was shocked when we did."

"I bet they were," said Prim with a giggle. She could just imagine all those snobbish Capitol stylists' jaws dropping as Cinna and Portia stepped up to select what was termed as the worst possible district to get. "But why'd you do it?" She asked curiously, resisting her foot-tapping habit.

"Because, my beautiful Fire Angel," said Cinna, twirling a lock of hair that framed her face in his fingers. "Like the coal that your district is known for, I wanted to be the source of something." His smile was contagious, and even though Prim wasn't entirely sure why he was smiling, she found her lips quirking upwards too. "Coal helps keep a flame going. It's a source of warmth and light, and I wish to create things that could be similar to that." He grinned and then lifted the two strips of fabric that hung off of Prim. "That's why when you get out there, I'd like you to offer to let them see an encore of your previous dress." He winked at her, a playful shine in his eyes. "I'm sure you and everyone else would love to see my newest creation."

Heartbeat began to resemble the loud beat of a drum, and the slow murmur of the crowd began to sound like the distant rumble of thunder as Prim walked towards Caesar Flickerman, who had a blue-themed ensemble. She did her best to remember the breathing exercises Cinna had blessed her with as she focused on taking one step at a time without tripping.

"Why hello, Primrose Everdeen." The tall Capitol-born-and-raised interviewer greeted amicably. With a genuine smile, Prime returned the sentiment. "There has been a lot of talk about you, Primrose. I don't know if you've heard, but they've taken to calling you Panem's very own Fire Angel." He gestured to the audience before waving at he seats, "Why don't we sit?" Before he could even move though, Prim blurted out:

"I actually have something to show you!" She blushed as she realized she had spoken out of term and had probably talked louder than necessary. Most found her adorable though, and she smiled tentatively as she was asked what it was. "My dress. The one before? This one has flames too!" She smiled hopefully up at Caesar as she looked through the faces in the crowd, trying to single out a caramel-colored man that was the source of her beautiful get up.

"Oh do show us!" Caesar cooed alongside the crowd.

Taking a deep breath in, Prim closed her eyes, crossed her legs, and then began to spin, using her leg to anchor her weight. Hearing the murmurs and cheers turn into gasps and silence, Prim opened her eyes to see what has become of her dress.

The flowers that decorated the hem of her dress had burst into flames, and looked rather lethal as her spinning caused it to rise higher and for tips of flame to lick her fingertips. The pearls that covered the bodice were gaining a darker hue and the strips of loose fabric had spun out to look like wings on fire. She was truly the epitome of being Panem's Fire Angel. When she stopped, silence met her newest look.

Gone was the pure, white-as-snow dress. She now stood before the entire nation of Panem in a coal black ensemble. The once beautiful and blooming flowers that lined the hem of her dress now hung down limply – a symbol of death and decaying. The bodice was now a deep black, with the two loose strips of fabric having a splash of oranges and reds at the tail – as if the flames would always be there.

And just like the silence, the applause that followed was deafening as well. Blushing at the unsaid compliment, Prim smiled radiantly and then moved back to sit at her place without much prompt from Caesar.

"Well, that was simply beautiful, Primrose!" Caesar said with a grin as he took a seat as well.

"I have my wonderful stylist and prep team to thank for that." She said politely, as she returned her gaze back out to the crowd. She relaxed more when her eyes met that of Cinna's. He gave her a thumbs up and she refocused on Caesar. "And please, call me Prim."

"Oh well, but enough of your wonderfully eye-catching dresses, Prim," said the interviewer with a wave of his hand. "Why don't you tell us a bit about yourself? How has your stay in the Capitol been?" He asked conversationally. "What do you like most about it?"

"Hot chocolate." Prim replied quickly and honestly, much to the delight and amusement of the viewers. "It can be sweet or bitter, depending on how you like it. And it really tastes great!" She said enthusiastically. "I've never had it before I got here, so I think I'll miss that when I get to the games," continued Prim thoughtfully. The crowd cooed, and Caesar's smile turned sympathetic for a moment.

"And what about home?" He asked. "Back at the reaping, we saw a girl try to volunteer for you, but you went on to tell her to go back." This time, his voice had gone softer as well, "Now I'm willing to bet she's your sister. Would you mind telling us the story about that?"

"She is my sister," replied Prim with a nod. Her eyes sought out Cinna's once more. She was beginning to feel more vulnerable than she ha thought she would. "Her name's Katniss Everdeen, and I was blessed to have her as my older sister. She looked out for me and made sure that our mom and I were cared for." She paused. "I didn't want her to enter the games because a lot of people rely on her. She and her best friend are wonderful together, and being a fan of happy endings, I only hope she finds one for herself." She smiled. "She deserves that after all she's been through."

"And what of Peeta Mellark and Cato Hadwell?" He continued. "There have been rumors that you've been rather close to the two from the very beginning. Is Peeta a friend from back home?" Prim shook her head from left to right.

"Peeta and I know each other through mutual friends, but we only really got to know each other when we were reaped." Prim explained. She decided not to tell them that he was in love with her sister. That was Peeta's secret to disclose, after all. "I'm glad to say that I consider him one of my closest friends now." She said proudly, before her wide grin turned soft. "Cato and I… we're acquaintances." She added, still not quite understanding where she and Cato stood with each other. He had said that what they had was something  _different_ , and while she agreed, she was pretty sure it wasn't a good different.

"And what did you tell your sister when you were given the chance to talk?" Caesar pressed on cautiously.

"I told her and our mom that I'll do everything I can." She said honestly, remembering their goodbyes in the Justice Building. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she looked upwards to try and stop them from falling. She swallowed.

"Yes, you will…" Caesar mumbled as he stood and offered her a hand to help her up. She took it and he raised her hand, "Ladies and gentlemen, Primrose Everdeen of District 12, Panem's Fire Angel!"

* * *

Prim watched Peeta's interview with the others in a larger waiting room. Effie sat to her left and Haymitch stood sober, leaning against the wall as their eyes were trailed on the young man on screen. Peeta's interview began and continued jovial and amicable enough. He and Caesar were friendly and amusing to watch, especially as they began to sniff each other at Peeta's prompting of smelling like roses. Prim's smile and the laughs that escaped both she and Effie were as authentic as possible.

"So, what of Primrose Everdeen?" Caesar asked plainly, and Prim tried not to look too interested in what Peeta had to say. She was vaguely aware that a camera had entered the room, and was watching her every move. "We hear that you and the little Angel are rather close… but that she is also acquainted with the District Two tribute – Cato." He looked sly and curious, and Prim was very much worried now. What did they hope to uncover with the question?

"Yes, I'd like to think Prim and I are close." Peeta said honestly. "She is the type of person that just pulls you in, I guess. From the very beginning, she has been such a great friend to me."

A smile flashed beautifully on Prim's lips as a video is flashed, surprising everyone. An interview has never been cut or edited before. The video was of the day of the reaping – the moment that Prim reached for Peeta's hand as they stood before the train. A look of confusion dawned on Prim's face. What's going on?

"And what of Cato?" Caesar pressed, as the video cuts and the camera pans back to them.

"I…" Peeta's gaze hardened and his posture stiffened visibly. "I don't like that he's spending too much time with Prim. I think he should back off. She doesn't need someone like him around."

Prim was unsurprised at the revelation. She knew what he thought about Cato, and had expected as much, but she felt herself freeze as Caesar continued his questioning.

"Are you, by any chance, jealous of the attention Prim is giving Cato?" He asked. "Do you…  _like_  Prim as something more than a friend?"

A soft smile graced Peeta's lips, and he looked thoughtful for a moment before he answered.

"I once met the most amazing girl." He said. "She had brown hair down in braids and had the most beautiful singing voice I have ever heard. I loved her. But then someone taught me that I didn't even know her. I didn't know her likes, dislikes. I didn't know of her dreams and fears. So I realized that I loved my  _idea_  of her." Memories of their last conversation before the day, had Prim smiling. "So I figured out that it wasn't love. It was just a crush – an infatuation, even." He continued, "So this person that helped me realize that – she's simply wonderful. She's kind, beautiful, and so unlike what I've ever imagined her to be." Peeta focused on the camera, and Prim had the eerie feeling that he was looking right at her. "I love her now as my dearest friend, and I'm beginning to fall  _in_  love with her."

"So I take it that you'll be winning her over when you're crowned the Victor, then?" Caesar asked, and everyone was left speechless when Peeta shook his head.

"I can't." He said, and Prim found herself freezing. He can't be serious! "She's here with me." The silence hung in the air as everyone processed his words. And as if it wasn't already clear, he continued, "I'm falling in love with Primrose Everdeen."


	19. The Reactions

Chapter Nineteen – The Reactions

* * *

Prim felt herself warm up as her eyes widened and a hand rose to cover her mouth. She couldn't believe it! Had she heard correctly? Had Peeta really just confessed to liking her as more than a friend? A camera was instantly before her, and her gaze moved from the lens of the camera to the TV and back. What had just happened? What was Peeta playing at? Was this some plan he and Haymitch cooked up? If so, then she wasn't having any of it! Tears pricked her eyes and the feeling of betrayal settled in. Was this all just a game to them? She stood abruptly, nearly knocking over the camera and falling over herself, and then left the room in a rush, only to lose her footing and fall into Cinna's arms.

This wasn't a welcome surprise at all.

* * *

**CATO**

The tension was palpable in the air as Peeta admitted his feelings for his Rose. Cato, furious as he was, strode out of District Two's Waiting Room and into the hallway just in time to see the object of Peeta Mellark's affection run out of their room and trip only to be caught by some stylist. That being said, the only thing that really registered in Cato's mind was the fact that the stylist was some guy. He scowled and stepped on over to them, seizing Prim by the arms when she was within reach.

It was only then that he realized she was sobbing. Anger made his heart beat faster, and he shifted her weight so that he could take her into his arms and carry her like a groom would his bride. He noted the way she seemed to curl up and burry herself closer to him. A small quirk of his lips hinted at the satisfaction he felt. To think that he didn't have to kill Peeta to get Prim to come to him! The unintelligent buffoon had brought upon the loss of Rose himself.

"I'll take her to your floor." Cato muttered loud enough for Cinna to hear, ignoring the camera that was hovering nearby. What a show Panem must have been getting. He scoffed, turning to head into the elevator that would lead them back to their rooms.

* * *

Arriving at the twelfth floor, Cato awkwardly placed his Rose on the couch. She curled up into a pitiful ball the moment she was out of his arms, and he couldn't help but frown. What had her so upset? Did she think that he would hurt her for Peeta's confession? Or perhaps did she know that he had seen them being all cozy at the rooftop and was afraid of what he would do as punishment. Confused, lost, but mostly annoyed, Cato grabbed her just above her elbows and turned her to face him.

"Stop crying." He ordered, which only served to make her cry even louder. "I said; stop crying!" He growled, shaking her. "Listen to me. You're going to stop crying; tell me what's wrong, and then you will get over it. Do you understand?" He snarled, his irritation very well near the breaking point. He felt her tremble in his hold, and saw the way she struggled to regain and keep whatever composure she had.

Prim sniffled, her vision still blurry as she tried to wipe away her tears and snot with her hand. Oh how horrible she must have looked now! She's probably ruined all the work her prep team had put into making her presentable, and guilt began to pool in her stomach. A fresh batch of tears began to brew, and her face scrunched up in such a way that made Cato sigh.

One of the hands that was holding her rose to cradle her head, and before she knew what was happening, Cato's lips had found hers and she was silenced. Her heartbeat seemed to calm down and beat faster all at the same time, and her hand rose to slap him, effectively ending the kiss. She looked up at him, her blue eyes glistening, and he stared back, face stoic. There was no handprint that indicated she had made a move against him, and he was not at all shocked when he felt no sting. She was too weak to even properly hit him.

"At least that shut you up." He said gruffly, letting go of her and standing straight, shoving his hands in his pocket and running a hand through his hair. He let his eyes roam her body, noting how absolutely delectable she looked dressed in her dark ensemble. "Now, what the fuck was all that the crying about? I would have thought you would be happy that your  _boyfriend_  loved you." He spat, being careful not to hint that he had seen anything about them outside of what he was supposed to.

"He isn't my boyfriend and he doesn't love me!" Prim screeched, her disappointment and sadness giving way for her frustration. Why do people keep saying that? Peeta wasn't her lover! He was in love with Katniss. His speech was probably some plan he and Haymitch cooked up. She tried to stand, but found her ankle giving way. In his arms once more, Prim felt more flustered than frustrated until she remembered just who it was that she was standing with. "And why do you care? Aren't you supposed to be happy? Isn't making my life miserable all you want?" She yelled, pushing him away to no avail. He was, and always will be, stronger than her. "Well congratulations, you don't seem to be the only one!" She used her fists to pound against his suit-clad chest, and he sighed, cradling her head to his heart.

"I may want you miserable, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let just anyone make you feel that way." He said. He hated dealing with women and their emotions. Clove would've been better suited to the situation than he was, and he looked down at Prim to see that she was crying again.

Didn't the girl ever stop crying?

Cato sighed, more resigned than anything. He wasn't the type of person to just leave. His mother did that to him, and he's vowed to himself that he would never let anyone feel the anguish of being alone for as long as he could help it. He pulled her closer to him, leaving no space between their bodies. He closed his eyes and swallowed audibly.

"Hey," began he rather awkwardly. "You should be somewhere more comfortable. Where's your room?" It felt so unlike him that even just saying such concern-laced words left an odd taste in his mouth.

* * *

Peeta was greeted by a concerned Effie and a thoughtful-looking Haymitch the moment he re-entered the waiting room.

"Prim left crying." Haymitch informed him, just as Cinna burst through the door with a camera right behind him.

"Not to mention that Cato's taken her upstairs," said the stylist. "She was crying like a lost child looking for her mother, and he just came, swept her into his arms and left." He gestured to the door. There was no mistaking the sympathetic look that everyone sent Peeta, who could only stare dumfounded at Cinna.

Had he been wrong in thinking the confession would prompt Prim into spending the Games with him?

* * *

Entering her room, Cato placed her on the bed carefully, and he was bombarded with memories of the last time they were in a bedroom. He closed his eyes. As much as he would've loved to continue where they – or rather she – stopped, he knew better than to push it. This was his Rose, and his wants be damned, but he wasn't that sex-driven as to take a girl when they were grieving… even if he had no idea what they're crying about.

He stood a few feet away from her, who was lying face-down on the blanket, curled up and looking more like a sack of potatoes than anything. A trickle of sweat rolled down from the top of his head to his cheek, before finally falling to and then from his chin. He shook off his coat, leaving him in his dress shirt, pants, and shoes. He tossed the coat on a nearby chair before forgoing his shoes and then slipping in next to his Rose.

When she recoiled away from him, he frowned. Grabbing hold of her wrist, he tugged with minimal strength and smirked when she turned. She should've known better than to try and defy him. Her bloodshot eyes met his expressionless orbs, and without another word, he pulled her closer once more. He moved so that she was curled up to his side, with an arm tucked between them and the other sprawled across his body. His left hand held her wrist, which he placed just above his stomach – close to his heart – while his right was on her lower back, just above her bum.

It was such an intimate position, and had it been any other time, Prim would've struggled to leave, but as it was, she was too exhausted. She wanted to question him – ask him once more why he was being uncharacteristically kind to her – but knew that it wouldn't be the best time for it. She didn't exactly know when, or even if, there would be a  _right time_ , but she understood that in that moment, as they lay together in silence with only the sound of their breaths and heartbeats filling their ears, it was better to be left as they were. Who knew when she would see this side of him again, after all?

Cato shifted so that he was at a slight incline, and Prim's head lolled to his chest because of it. He froze as he saw that she had fallen asleep, probably out of fatigue. His jaw clenched as he took note of her ruined make up, tear-streaked face, and messed up hair. It was odd to think that even then, he didn't think any less of his beautiful angel. Despite all her emotions and her rather plain looks (without the makeup, that is), she still managed to capture his attention like none of the others can.

A small smile met his lips as he saw Prim mumble something inaudible and buried herself closer to his side. Was this really the same girl who had the nerve to slap him? The one that Clove has befriended and provoked reactions within him that he thought he'd long stashed away…? She looked so calm and at peace in her slumber, and he couldn't help but wonder what the story behind her is. Did she have something similar to his or to Clove's? Or was she brought up beautifully and into a family with high standards? But then perhaps she was a simple merchant's daughter, awaiting a certain age to be married off to some man all in the honor of furthering the business or whatnot.

Various scenarios ran through his mind before he caught himself.

What was he thinking? He wasn't seriously wondering about her past, was he? He didn't  _care_  for her, much less her past! But then why was he here? His traitorous mind was beginning to work against him. Why had he taken her here – to their territory? He could've just as easily taken her with him to his room. Why did he choose this place? Why did it matter if she were comfortable? Why?

* * *

An hour later found Peeta Mellark bursting through the elevator doors. He would've been there sooner had the tributes not been called back for a general announcement of what was to happen the next couple of days. His heart was hammering loudly in his chest as his eyes did a thorough sweep of the room. Finding no signs of them, he was just about to head back to the elevator to look at the second floor when the opening and closing of a door caught his attention. Eyes filled with such intensity, he watched as an Avox slipped out of Prim's room.

"Hey," said he, gaining the redheaded girl's attention. "Is she there?" He asked, walking closer to her. The girl nodded. "Is he with her?" He asked once more, and again, the girl nodded. Clenching his fists, Peeta raised a hand to pull the door open, only to be stopped by the Avox.

The girl's brown eyes showed her concern, and it was only then that Peeta realized he was actually trembling because of pure rage. He closed his hand into a fist, inhaling and exhaling deeply and slowly so as to calm himself down. His eyes fell close and he tried his best not to keep his brows furrowed for too long. When his blue eyes met the Avox's brown ones, he had a better reign on his actions.

"Are they at least... I mean what are… Is she okay?" He finally asked after struggling to find the words. He hated the thought that he was out here while that no good asshole was inside with such a fragile girl. It was wrong on so many levels! But then, wasn't this the consequence of his risk-taking? He hadn't been lying when he said that Prim had opened his eyes. And while he couldn't honestly say that he was already in love with her, given the time, he probably would have fallen, anyways.

The Avox nodded, and she looked as if she wanted to speak, but both knew that she couldn't. Avoxes usually had their tongues cut off, and Peeta racked his brain for more questions to get an idea of how Prim was doing. He wanted to see her, but feared that he might see something unwanted should he barge in – or worse, he might do something he would regret.

"Thank you." Peeta told the girl, and she understood that it wasn't just for answering his questions – but for preventing him from further damaging his relationship with Prim as well. "Can you call me once you see that she's up? I'll be in my room." He told her before leaving her alone. He needed to rethink his actions. He had thought that proclaiming his feelings would give Prim an edge or at least some sort of advantage. But as it was, it only served to push her further into the arms of the enemy.

* * *

The smell of roasted turkey and the gravy wafted throughout the entire floor, which greeted the two occupants of Primrose Everdeen's room. An eye opened, revealing bright blue orbs, and Prim tensed as she began to register just who she was with and the position they were in.

An arm was wrapped securely around her waist, pulling her back flush against the definitely masculine front of her sleeping bedfellow. A mixture of embarrassment and fright filled her as her cheeks colored a rosy red. How and why did she get herself into these situations? She closed her eyes, trying to gather her wits and figure out how she'll get out of Cato's hold. It had been easy with Peeta, why can't it be the same with the blonde boy sleeping soundly behind her? But of course, she knew why. Cato was far from being even remotely similar to Peeta. They were both males and had blonde hair, but that was about where their similarities stopped. Cato was more a person of action and disconnection, while Peeta was one who voiced his feelings, was affectionate and loved to give and feel love.

Sighing, Prim pondered what Peeta was thinking by lying about his feelings the way he did. Was it some sort of ploy to get more sponsors? It surely didn't help her out! Prim was just about curl up when the weight behind her shifted, signaling movement on Cato's part. He pulled her even tighter to him and buried his head into her hair, his lips coming into contact with her nape, sending goose bumps all over her. It was scary the effect he had on her.

"C-cato?" She called out, her voice hoarse and small as it penetrated the silent room. An incoherent groan resounded from Cato, and she wiggled a bit to try and leave – or even turn to face him. "C-cato…?" She tried once more, placing a tentative hand on his arm to try and push it off, though she feared that he might snap at her. She had to pee!

The realization hit her harder than a speeding train. She really did need to go to the restroom, and if Cato won't let her off the hook for that, then she would just pay the consequences later – though she does find herself second guessing her actions even as she moved to throw off Cato's arm and sprint to the bathroom, leaving a confused and bewildered Cato, whose eyes were beginning to adjust to the lighting of the room after he suddenly opened them and then sat up.


	20. The Contemplation

Chapter Twenty – The Contemplation

* * *

Cato stared at his hands as he tried to fully comprehend just what had happened. Had he really fallen asleep with Rose in his arms…? And without touching her in any sort of sexual way too! His hands tingled as he recalled how it had felt to hold her in his embrace. It was such an odd feeling. He had always thought that it would never happen – that he would only ever sleep beside a woman that he's either had sex with or planning to kill or torture. His hands opened and closed into fists as he thought. Nothing felt different… well, there was the odd feeling of pride. But he had no idea what he was proud of. Was it that he was able to comfort his Rose when no one could? Or that he had beaten Peeta Mellark when it came to Rose? After all, his Rose had come running away from Peeta and fallen into his arms, hadn't she?

He smirked at the thought, shifting so that he was in the lotus position, causing his clothes to crinkle even more. He probably looked like a right mess – with his disheveled hair and very much ruined clothes. He wondered if he should leave, but the very thought of leaving his Rose alone and within proximity to Peeta left him with no other choice than to stay with her – because he doubted she'd come with him unless forced.

Now that was an idea. He smiled to himself and turned to face the bathroom door when Rose returned. His confused hazel eyes met her cautious blue eyes as she stood by the door, hand still on the knob and face cleaner than it had been earlier. It was obvious that she had washed her makeup off, and Cato thought that had he left, she would have changed into different clothes too. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and both had a feeling that they were waiting on the other to make a move.

"Are you…" Cato began, unsure just what he wanted to say. He swallowed visibly. "Do you feel better?" He asked, not once failing in keeping his eyes on hers. It was a new experience – to look at a member of the opposite gender without raking his eyes over them. When had blue become his favorite color?

It was almost lost on the older of the pair when Prim nodded. Her hold on the knob tightened and loosened periodically as she fought to keep her composure and maintain eye contact. With a clear of her throat she said, "Thank you for staying with me." She wanted to smile at him and let him know that what he did was truly appreciated, but she couldn't seem to get her face and mind to get on the same page. Part of her was grateful that someone had watched over her, another was shocked and cautious to have that someone be Cato – of all people – and then the last part of her was disappointed that Peeta had not come to even check up on her. Was she that unimportant?

Cato grunted in response and stood up and off of the bed. "I look out for my own." He said, smirking as she saw her blush and indignation shine in her eyes. "Now why don't we go get something to eat, Rose?" He offered, tucking his hands in his pocket and nodding to the door. She looked back and forth between him and the door before sighing softly and moving to stand beside him. He took her hand in his as he opened the door, and they stepped out to be greeted by the low lighting that accompanied the night.

"Why don't you lead me to the kitchen?" Cato said, making a grand gesture with his free hand for Prim to lead the way. She moved so that she was at least two steps ahead of him, but found that he would not let go of her hand, so she continued on with their clasped hands trailing behind her.

She supposed it should have felt odd. It was only last night that she and Peeta had snuck up to the rooftop, and now she didn't feel like seeing her district partner again, and she was sneaking to the kitchen with someone else – a career… Cato, no less! She subconsciously clenched her hands into fists, surprising Cato, who thought that she had been squeezing his hand. Why didn't it feel wrong?

Sparing their hands a glance before looking back up at the back of Rose's head while still keeping his senses up, Cato thought that perhaps he should have left when she'd fallen asleep. He wasn't a fan of the way he had felt empty when she left his hold. He had sworn to himself that no one would ever hold such power over him, and he would be damned if he let her get the better of him. He closed his eyes just as the kitchen came into view. He would need to kill her earlier than expected.

There was no way he was going to lose to some girl with blue eyes.

"Haymitch!" Prim squeaked as the aforementioned Mentor came into view. He was – as always – sitting on a stool with what looked to be a glass of water by his side. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she pulled her hand away from Cato's, only to have him tighten his hold. She wasn't getting away that easily.

"You should change into something more comfortable," said Haymitch as he eyed her crinkled dress with a raised brow. "I'm sure Cinna's still awake – I heard that he and Effie were going to discuss something with Portia in his room." He then met Cato's steely gaze, "You can go with her if you want. Better yet, you can return to your floor." He took a drink of water. "I think you two should know that you've caused quite the uproar all over Panem. The triangle of Peeta, Prim, and Cato are all everyone's been talking about."

Cato glared at Haymitch, who only looked at him in boredom. "And I think that you should mind your own business, old ma-" Cato was cut off by Prim's hand on his chest. He looked down at her and was met with her pleading eyes topped off with her pouting lips. He sneered even as his heartbeat echoed in his ears. "You want me to leave too?"

She knew that she should say yes. She should nod her head and push him away. Her mind told her that it was the rationally thing to do, her heart told her that she had no one that apart from Cinna no one was really on her side. Making a split second decision, Prim's gaze fell to her hand, which was in a fist, holding a good portion of Cato's dress shirt.

"I…" she began, unaware that Haymitch's eyes were now very much boring holes into her back. "Wait for me in the living room." She said, letting her eyes drop to the floor. With a light push, Cato relented, a smirk on his face as he backed into the living room to leave Prim and Haymitch in the kitchen.

When she was sure that Cato had left, Prim turned to face Haymitch, upset and frightened all at the same time. The feeling of being alone was once again falling upon her, and she didn't like it one bit. She wrapped her arms around herself as she looked for the words to express her dislike of the situation Peeta's so-called confession had placed her in.

"Was it some sort of trick to get him sponsors?" She asked, unable to hide the bitter tone in her voice. It was beginning to feel as if Haymitch was favoring Peeta. And while she didn't really mind that aspect of it, she was not a fan of how uninvolved she was with the matter.

Haymitch shrugged. "Not at all." He smirked, raising a brow. "He has a crush on you, Angel. And that crush, well it also has the power to get him riled up whenever you and  _your friend_  get too cozy." He drummed his fingers on the countertop absentmindedly. "The stunt you pulled – falling into Cato's arms, him taking you away, Peeta being so affected by it all… Everyone is keeping an eye on you three now, and I want to talk to you about some strategies before you go to bed." He ran a hand through his shiny hair. "Now go get changed, do whatever it is with Cato and then meet me back here."

Doing as instructed, Prim felt as if she were on autopilot as she passed by Cato and went to Cinna's room. Knocking twice, she entered upon being granted, with Cato right behind her. He wasn't about to let her out of his sight for any extended period of time – even if it was to get changed. The duo found Cinna alone, watching some soap opera on the television.

"Glad to see your awake, Angel!" Cinna said with a warm smile as he took Prim in his arms. Cato wasn't too happy about the gesture, but reminded himself that he was just some stylist and that Cinna had nothing on him.

"I need to change," whispered Prim loud enough for her companions to hear. Cato took a seat on one of the lounge chairs, taking the remote and shifting through the channels as Cinna went to help Prim out of her beautiful dress. If he didn't say so himself, he would have to say that the dress had to be his favorite one yet.

As Cinna and Prim silently worked on getting Prim into more comfortable clothes, Cato couldn't help but watch them from the full-length mirror to the side. He could see their reflections as clearly as if her were watching them properly, and he would have to say that his Rose had such a beautiful body. It wasn't as curvy as Clove's nor as developed as hers, but it surely held the promise of becoming beautifully blossomed. Her skin was an even color and he found that she had a birthmark on her hip. She looked so imperfect with her rather skinny figure and her vacant eyes, but he still thought her above everyone else.

There was definitely something wrong with him.

The memory of last night flashed before his eyes. Seeing Peeta embrace his Rose and how comfortable the two looked was such a contradiction to how she had reacted earlier. Could it be that she was truly unattached? That there was no other guy? Or that maybe that other guy was back home? Either way, he wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of him and his Rose – or him and becoming the Victor.

That was still his goal.

Rose was just some passing obsession.

He was sure that he would be rid of this quirk a day into the games – if not earlier.

Prim kept her eyes downcast and her focus on Cinna and the silk nightdress that she was being given. It was an eerie feeling; she could feel his eyes on her. She was sure that if she dared meet his gaze with the use of the mirror, she would be reduced to a blubbering little girl whose face was as red as a tomato – unable to look away from him.

When Cinna finished, Prim had offered a polite thank you and then proceeded to lead Cato back out of the room. They returned to the kitchen, both relieved to find the lone mentor of District 12 gone. She didn't think that now would be a good time to talk, while he had no intention of sharing his Rose with anyone. They wondered who would break the silence that had engulfed them.

They watched each other over the counter as an Avox prepared and served their meal. Cato felt at ease as he watched her take a bit of broccoli, and Prim's eyes briefly met his as she swallowed. What could she say? What could either of them say? There was nothing to talk about and no reason to speak. The hush was a welcome way to clear and organize their thoughts, but it was also rather discomforting for the younger of the two.

Why hadn't he left yet?

There was nothing keeping him there, and really, he would probably feel better and more comfortable once he was back at his floor and in regular clothes. All he had done to make him a bit more comfortable was remove his coat and loosen his tie, and Prim doubted that he still felt as at ease as when he had first done so. He probably felt like taking a shower and getting into a new set of clothes.

She was surprised when he broke the silence.

"Trouble in paradise?"

She looked up and chewed slowly as he went on about eating nonchalantly. She supposed that it was a valid question seeing as he had assumed that she and Peeta were more than friends, and then she had gone on to cry when Peeta allegedly confessed his love for her.

She, more than he, was surprised by the words that tumbled out of her mouth, "There was no paradise in the first place." Did that mean she hadn't been truly happy with Peeta? But then again, all she really wanted – all that she still  _wants_  – was to be back home in District Twelve, with Katniss and her mother. Her heart constricts in the most painful way. What did Katniss think of her now? Getting into such a mess with two boys both closer to her sister's age than hers….It was such an absurd predicament that she would have thought it impossible if it weren't happening to her and before her very eyes.

Cato did not speak anymore, and neither did she, as they continued to eat. When they finished, they retired to the living room, where he situated himself comfortably on the loveseat, pulling her down to sit on his lap. It was such a surreal feeling for her. Hadn't she been in a similar position only a couple of nights back before she slapped him and ran out of his room? Hadn't that been the same night that she had cried into Peeta's arms and then slept by his side? How easily emotions, feelings, and thoughts changed!

 _Will you be okay on your own_ , Cato wanted to ask, but instead, what came out was a grunted, "Go to bed." One hand rested at the small of her back as the other held her chin. He leaned in and paused a few centimeters shy of their lips meeting. "Close your eyes," ordered he, and upon seeing that she did, he kissed her.

She neither tensed nor reciprocated the move, and as he pulled away, her eyes fluttered as it opened. She blinked owlishly at him before getting off of him. She waited as he stood and went to the elevator and only went back to her room when he was gone.

She had a feeling she wasn't the only one left with things to mull over.


	21. The 74th Hunger Games

Chapter Twenty-One – The 74th Hunger Games

* * *

Prim sat frozen in her seat beside Cato as they waited for the hovercraft to begin its ascend. It was to transport them to the base for their arena. Across from her was Peeta, but she honestly couldn't bring herself to meet neither his prying eyes nor his pleading expression. Instead, she tried to focus on herself – on keeping her heartbeat steady and her breathing even. She might start hyperventilating if she didn't!

She had gone about ignoring and avoiding the boy who had lied to Panem about his feelings for her, which was quite the feat considering they basically lived on the same floor and they were usually within each other's peripheral. It had taken a lot of convincing on Prim's part so that she was never without a companion. Be it Haymitch, Cinna, Effie, or even Cato! She made sure that Peeta wasn't given the opportunity to corner her.

"Hey." Cato's demanding tone made her turn to him abruptly, and she winced when the tips of her hair accidentally hit her face. It was down in two braids again, courtesy of her Prep Team, and even she had to admit that she looked rather harmless. No one would've known that she could aim and actually hit with a couple of knives. "Calm down. Your heart's racing." He said, causing Prim to wonder how he knew, until she looked down and saw that his hand was firmly holding her own. A blush crept to her cheeks, of embarrassment or anxiety, she wasn't so sure anymore. She pleasantly noted, however, that his warm hand was a welcome difference to her freezing ones.

A girl in white came by to inject their trackers into their arms, and Prim watched as the tiny gadget in the woman's arm showed that she was Primrose Everdeen when placed above her tracker. She idly wondered if the tracker could be used even when they're out of the arena. That would be a nice question to bring up if she ever had the chance, she thought to herself.

When they were finally airborne, Prim found a new unwanted predicament; she was getting sick. The change in altitude was getting to her, and she found herself needing to go to the restroom or simply locate a trash bin. She was surely going to lose what little breakfast she'd eaten! Her grip on Cato's hand subconsciously tightened, evoking a small smile-smirk from Cato, whose eyes were locked with Peeta's. It remained a competition between the two when it came to her - even if she wasn't aware of it.

Taken to different rooms, Prim met up with Cinna in the small space given to them to prepare for the games. Tears were filling Prim's eyes as Cinna fitted her with the attire she would be wearing until she either died or won. She had a feeling she was closer to the former than the latter though, and even as Cinna pinned her long-forgotten Mockingjay token, her tears stayed at bay.

"I have a feeling I'm going to see you again, Angel." He said, playing with the ends of Prim's hair. His smile was nearly infectious – just like her tears were nearly falling. The announcement that tributes should go to their positions sounded in a minute and a half, and Cinna placed a kiss on Prim's forehead.

"You  _will_  get through this, Primrose Everdeen." He whispered, his lips lingering close to her forehead. He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly just as the door opened to reveal Haymitch, who looked impeccably well in his custom-tailored suit.

"Stay with the careers." Haymitch said, not bothering to take a step closer to the frightened little girl. "And when you seven are left in the arena – you run." He pursed his lips, eyeing his young pupil carefully. "You run and hide. Stay hidden – I'm sure you understand the basics, already. With luck, you may outlive whoever survives among them." He then let a small smile grace his features. The kid had grown on him. She was impeccably sweet and very hard not to love. He had been right to think that she would have the entire nation of Panem eating out of the palm of her hand should she set her mind to it.

Without prompt, Prim ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head just below his chest – because that was just about where she reached. His arms wrapped around her as well, pulling her tightly to him. He placed a quick kiss to the top of her head, willing himself not to show any emotion.

"I'll see you later, Angel." He said, before pushing her to the direction of the glass tube that would send her upwards – to the arena.

Sixty seconds. That was how long they kept you standing on the metal plates. Step out earlier and land mines kill you, any later and you will be caught in the bloodbath. Prim wasn't exactly quite sure where she should go once the alarm rang. Was she supposed to go to the Careers? Or maybe run and hide for a bit?

As she was lifted up, the arena came to view.

Her eyes were assaulted with vibrant green – from the leaves on the trees to the meadow surrounding them. Lush greenery surrounded them all around, and as she turned around – being careful not to step off of the plate, she saw that the Cornucopia was right in the center of them. Only one thought entered her mind –  _Katniss_. How she probably would've felt so at ease and confident in such an arena. She practically lived in and owned the forest near District 12, after all.

"I love Buttercup," said Prim, just as the countdown passed fifty.

_Forty-four,_

_Forty-three,_

_Forty-two,_

"I love Lady." She turned, so that her back was to the massive structure that held the better supplies.

_Thirty-seven,_

_Thirty-six,_

_Thirty-five,_

"I love the Hawthornes." She scanned her surroundings, looking for any possible item she could snag.

_Thirty,_

_Twenty-nine,_

_Twenty-eight,_

"I love you, dad." She had decided that she would wait out the bloodbath in a tree nearby, and then go after the Careers before they left the center of it all.

_Twenty-three,_

_Twenty-two,_

_Twenty-one,_

"I love you, mom." She was pretty sure they would be finishing off the bloodbath.

_Sixteen,_

_Fifteen,_

_Fourteen,_

A tear slid down her cheek as she continued, "I love you, Katniss."

_Twelve,_

"I love Cinna." Her eyes settled on a pack a good ten feet away from her. Hopefully, it would contain something useful.

"And Haymitch."

"And Effie."

"And Flavius."

"And Venia."

"And Ocavia."

_Five,_

"I love Peeta."

"I might not come home, Katniss."

_Two,_

"I'm sorry."

_One._

And then she was off, as fast, if not faster, than the elevator back at the Training Center.

* * *

Cato nodded at Clove and they headed straight on for the kills. He snapped some guy's neck as he made his way to the Cornucopia, where he knew they must've placed his favorite weapons. A girl was stupid enough to try and take him on, but she was easily killed by Glimmer with an arrow through the neck. He rolled his eyes and smirked when he found some poor excuse of a guy trying to get away with a bag that looked to be full of supplies.

Grabbing the nearest weapon he could find, he ran after the boy and thrust the spear through his abdomen. He grinned, "Where did you think you were going? Hmmm?" He watched as the boy fell to his knees, the light dying in his eyes. The canons rapidly firing didn't even register in his mind. He only wanted to get to the swords that the Gamemakers had surely hid at the Cornucopia.

"CATO, DUCK!"

Quick to react, he did as instructed and found a knife lodging itself in some girl's back. The unnamed girl had been poised to attack, with a dagger in hand, he wondered how she could've gotten into the Cornucopia without him or any of the other Alliance members noticing, but shrugged it off as she fell with a loud thud.

He straightened himself up and looked around at the bodies. His eyes easily located his acquaintances. Well, all except one. He frowned, noticing that his Rose was nowhere in sight.

"She ran." Vox spoke up from his place beside Pan. They were standing near a dead boy's form, and neither looked at all disturbed as Cato's eyes locked upon them. "I saw her run the moment the alarm went off. She probably planned it from the start."

"Or she avoided the bloodbath!" Clove countered with a frown, not quite liking that Vox was badmouthing Prim. She made a show of rubbing the blades of her knives together nonchalantly. "Think about it; she's a small girl that can easily be harmed with proper intent – and really, one of us would've killed her if she had been here." She licked her lips. Whoever made the mistake of killing Prim would not only have to answer to Cato, but to Clove as well.

"Well, it would've been one less co-" Vox had been unable to finish his sentence as Cato used his newly-acquired sword to behead the (in his opinion) annoying and useless bastard from District Four. A growl escaped him as he stood straight and tall, scanning the area before looking to the members of the Alliance.

"Anyone else want to speak up?" He snarled, knowing no one would dare argue with him now that they've seen he wasn't above killing those on his side.

When no one made another move, his hold on his sword tightened and he took a deep breath in. If this was how Prim was going to play, then so be it. She wanted to play hide and seek, didn't she? He smirked, let the games begin.

"Everyone grab a pack, fill it with weapons and necessities and then we'll head out. Our Main Target:  _Peeta Mellark_." He had promised Rose that he wouldn't harm her district partner if she stayed by his side. Well, she was nowhere to be seen, and that was the consequence of her action. He walked over to the rows of swords.

He placed the one he used to kill Vox on the ground. He didn't want anything to do with the puny tribute that had the nerve to talk lowly of his Rose. Not even his blood was worth being a factor of Cato becoming the next Victor. Taking another sword roughly the same size as the first one, Cato turned around, aiming his sword at the intruder behind him. He relaxed when he found it to be Clove.

"She's probably somewhere around here, Cato." Clove hissed, motioning around them.

He tensed, "It sounds to me as if you're protecting  _Peeta_ , Clove." He took a step towards her, his sword up and his senses alert. "Tell me, Clove. Have you come to  _care_  for him?" He taunted, smirking at the glare his childhood friend sent his way.

"Prim wouldn't forgive you if you go back on your word."

"I swore that she should stay with me so that I'll make his death quick and relatively painless." He sneered. "I'm a man of my word – you know that. Seeing as she's decided to run off to who knows where with him…" He drew his sword back. "I think that tells me plenty about what she thinks of  _my word_."

"What makes you even think that they're together?"

The tributes from District Two turned to face Glimmer, whose brow was arched and had her hair down in low pig tails. Cato was reminded of the first time he had seen Prim – her hair had been down in two braids. He couldn't help but think that Glimmer's hairstyle was a poor imitation of it.

"Do you think they aren't?" Cato argued. "I'm sure you've seen and heard his interview." He continued, "But I suppose you don't know about their late night rendezvous." The memory of his Rose in Peeta Mellark's arms was just adding fuel to the flame in Cato's heart that wanted to gut Peeta like a fish.

Glimmer's and Clove's jaws dropped as they stared at Cato. Yes, they weren't aware of that! The latter frowned though. Prim didn't seem like the type to go sneaking off just to be with someone. After all, why would they have to sneak off when they had more privacy on their own floor? Something wasn't adding up, and Clove was going to get to the bottom of it.

"We're all good, Cato." Marvel said, entering the scene with them. "We should head out – it's too troublesome to let them get too far." He said with a roll of his eyes nodding his head toward some random direction.

* * *

Tucked safely into a hollow tree trunk, Prim held her breath as two tributes ran past her without noticing. She sighed when there was no one else in sight, and winced as she heard the Canons begin to sound.

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

Her eyes drew shut as she continued to count.

_Ten._

Almost half! Her eyes snapped wide open as she gasped. Had Peeta survived? Or Rue? The thought of the little girl just a year her junior dying so early in the games brought a fresh batch of tears to her eyes. She berated herself for crying. She was supposed to be strong! How else was she going to get through this?

Carefully, she extracted herself from her hiding spot. She made sure to look around more than a couple of times before she even moved an inch, and when she was finally out, she retraced her steps back to the Cornucopia. Her brows shot up as she saw the Careers just about to head off – to the direction opposite to where she was going.

She opened her mouth to call out to them but no sound would come out, so she ran. She ran as fast as her thin legs could carry her and the bag she had gotten. She was waving her arms around, desperately wanting to catch their attention.

What if they thought she left? What if they went after Peeta?!

Her breathing uneven, she tried to call out for them once more.

"W-wait!" Her voice just a croak, her heart raced when one of them turned around.

It was Pan.

She smiled, thinking that she was saved. She began to slow down a bit, the knowledge of having someone wait for her calming her frantic heart slightly. It was then she truly began to look around.

Bodies littered the area and droplets of blood scattered, painting blades of grass a dark red. She had never thought that death actually had a smell until she caught a whiff of it. She felt sick to her stomach. Only hours ago, these people were up and alive, but now… Now, they were gone. Her heart clenched at the thought, and she turned back to Pan when she saw the unmoving figure of a beheaded Vox.

She gasped when she found that Pan was now a couple of feet away from her.

Her expression was as clear as the sky – pure and uncontrolled hatred. Prim knew that she had to get away; fast. But she also understood that with Pan's expertise with spears, turning her back to the girl was not the best of ideas.

"I-I'm sorry." She stammered, taking a step back as Pan raised her favorite weapon. An unbecoming glare was on her face, and Prim wondered who would dare kill a Career. Who had enough power to kill someone that was virtually considered better than most?

"You are such a pain." Pan growled, before moving to embed the spear into Prim's body.

Closing her eyes and side-stepping as quick as she could, Prim found herself falling to the ground, hitting her head on some rope. She tentatively opened her eyes, ecstatic to find that she was alive. She cautiously sat up and looked to the direction of Pan, who was now lying motionless with an arrow protruding out of her back.

Someone had saved her!

She looked around and found Glimmer standing just in front of where the forest began. Slowly, the other Careers emerged, and things began to click into place.

The 74th Hunger Games had really begun.


	22. Gratitude

Chapter Twenty-Two – Gratitude

* * *

Clumsily pulling herself up, Prim ran towards Glimmer. She staggered a bit as she almost lost her balance and fell over a corpse, but she managed to keep her footing until she reached the other blonde, which was about the same time that the canon sounded, signaling Pan's death. Prim shuddered; the Careers were ruthless! It didn't, however, stop her from being grateful to Glimmer. Despite having killed someone without even caring, Prim was happy and relieved to be alive.

They had begun following the path that the others had taken – they were a good twenty or twenty-five feet away – when Prim finally got enough of her wits to talk. Goosebumps still covered her skin as she worked up enough of her brain cells to speak.

"Thank y-you," said she, her skin still pale after all the nauseating dead bodies she saw. She took a deep breath in before sighing. "But why'd you save me?" She asked curiously. She feared that Glimmer might get irritated and lash out, but she wanted to know.

Between Glimmer and Pan, she had thought that perhaps she had more of a bond with the latter, but as she saw earlier, it had all been an act. So as they walked, Prim turned her head so that she was facing Glimmer. Why? What had she done to make Glimmer save her? Had she done anything at all, or was it a part of some bigger plan? The thought sent chills down her spine. How had she gotten herself into these situations? First a tool in Cato's twisted mind games, then a pawn in Peeta's confession stint, and now what? A charity case under Glimmer's wing to gain sponsors?

The older girl side-eyed Prim, thinking her answer through before she spoke.

"Cato would kill me if he found out I let Pan kill you," said Glimmer crisply.

"Oh." Prim said dumbly as they continued to walk in silence. She had a feeling there was more to it, but didn't want to be a pain – the girl had saved her life, after all! Who's to say that she wouldn't end it too? After about an hour of walking, Prim found that they had effectively caught up with the others, who were taking a break and drinking some of the water they had gotten from the Cornucopia. There had been a canon fired during their journey, and again, Prim hoped it was neither Peeta nor Rue.

"And where have you been?" Cato sneered at Glimmer, his glare cold and unforgiving. Prim, who had fallen behind, side-stepped so that she stood beside the pretty District 1 Tribute.

"She was with me." She said, gaining the attention of Cato, Clove, and Marvel. "She saved me from Pan. S-she's dead now." The memory of Pan's dead body had her close to hyperventilating, and if it weren't for the arm around her shoulder as she was pulled into a hug, she thought that she probably would have hyperventilated.

Glimmer held Prim close, and she watched as Clove and Cato shared a look before the former roughly grabbed the latter by the arm and led him a few feet away to talk. Marvel, all the while, was keeping an eye out, his spear in hand. She would let them settle whatever had their underwear in knots. That wasn't her problem.

A couple of seconds later, Prim had regained her composure and Clove and Cato had returned.

* * *

Cato wouldn't admit it out loud, but he had felt a little relieved to find that Prim was there. He still thought her a nuisance to his plans, but he would admit that having her there with them was way better than thinking that she was somewhere canoodling with Peeta Mellark. At least this way, he could keep an eye on her, he thought as he was reminded of the scores she and her District Partner had earned. That being said, he followed as Clove led him away from the others.

"She's back," stated Clove. "Now, lay off of Peeta, okay?" She growled at him, her eyes holding that spark that just dared him to cross her. He was more amused than threatened, something they both knew.

"A soft spot for Twelve, Clove?" He taunted. "Is that what you're going to replace me with?" He almost laughed when Clove shoved him, her anger quite tangible.

"Leave our past out of this! You know Peeta Mellark's life is the only thing keeping Prim here." She pointed out. "Would you really want her to leave because you couldn't push through with one measly promise?" She huffed. "Leave him to me." She then began to walk back to where the others were located. "I made a promise myself, you see."

* * *

"We can stay here for the night." He announced, placing his bag on the ground. He looked around, organizing his mind before he began ordering them around. "No one will light a fire, got it? If we see smoke, we follow it – some idiot probably wasn't thinking straight, which would mean an easy kill for us. The rules among us are simple; kill everyone else and then you're on your own." He turned to Glimmer, "You set up the food that we took – Clove can help you divide them up." And then he waved Marvel over. "You and Rose set up the sleeping bags, I'm going to see if there's a river within a hundred feet of this place."

And with that, he left them to their tasks, making sure he got some empty water containers and his sword with him.

He needed some way he could think without being disturbed or distracted. He ran a hand through his blonde hair. When he had thought that his Rose was gone, all his thoughts were killing Peeta Mellark – torturing him and ensuring that he died in the slowest, most painful, possible way. Now that he had Rose though, he had no idea what to do with her.

Yes, at some point, she would have to die for him to win, but the odd beating of his heart told him that Achilee Doug had been right. Maybe he wouldn't be able to do it, because as much as he denied it, Cato had grown attached to Primrose Everdeen – a fact he had discovered when he found himself thinking of her the night before the games. He had thought of how she would survive if The Alliance hadn't taken her in. He had imagined how she would look covered in dirt and lying next to him. He had thought up different arenas and how they would've adapted to each one.

He paused.

_They?_

The word plagued him like a nightmare. Had he really been picturing unprecedented scenarios in his mind that revolved around him and Primrose Everdeen? Had he really been – dare he say it – planning a future with her? Had he really fallen to such a level?

Frustrated, he threw the water containers to the leaf-covered forest floor. His anger and confusion were plain to see in his hazel eyes, and while he looked crazed and the very epitome of rabid and dangerous, one couldn't help but acknowledge that there was a certain kind of beauty in seeing such a pained beast. It was a painful sort of prettiness, but beautiful to behold, nonetheless.

When had he become such a wuss?

* * *

Prim watched Cato leave with a small frown marring her features. Her eyes remained on his back until he disappeared from view, and when she turned around, she was met with the annoyed stare of Glimmer, who was helping Clove ration the food. Surprised, Prim found herself asking what was wrong.

"You shouldn't worry about him." Glimmer spat as she piled packs of beef jerky. "You think of yourself in these games. Others can only drag you down.  _Feelings_  only bring you down." Prim didn't reply, instead letting her eyes return to the sleeping bags she and Marvel were laying out. In all honesty, Prim thought the opposite. While yes, caring for others may mean death, wouldn't it be better to have cared for someone and died rather than to survive with the blood of children on your hands? She shuddered to think that she would ever be responsible for the life of anyone.

"Your brother." Marvel said suddenly, and everyone looked up from their own tasks to regard the usually silent member of the group. He was looking intently at Glimmer, whose face seemed to be permanently quirked into a glare. She stood, and was just about to march over to Marvel when Clove grabbed her wrist.

The District Two female shook her head, "We can't turn on each other yet." She tugged lightly, so that she and Glimmer can resume placing the food into their individual packs. "We eliminate everyone else and then you can do whatever you wish with Marvel, mmkay?"

Grumbling under her breath, Glimmer nodded and they continued, leaving Prim to wonder what that was about. She turned to Marvel, and found that he was leaning against a tree, sharpening his spear with another knife. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she bounded on over to him, moving to stand only four feet away from the man whose focus seemed to be on his weapon alone. It scared Prim how concentrated he was on sharpening it's tip.

"Marvel?" She began tentatively.

The aforementioned person raised a brow looking at Prim from beneath his lashes. His head was still partly tilted down, and no other part of him acknowledged that someone had come to converse with him.

"Why did you say that?" Prim asked, eyes shining with the virtuousness Marvel had lost long ago. She took a tentative step closer to the older boy, not once breaking eye contact. He seemed indifferent to the move, and she didn't know whether to take it as a good sign or a bad sign.

Marvel was more amused than anything, and let a smirk appear on his face as he straightened himself up, bringing himself closer to Prim. She visibly blushed, only serving to heighten Marvel's amusement. He shifted so that the tip of his spear lightly grazed her cheek.

"I say what I feel like,  _Primrose_." He grunted, leaning in so that his lips were level with her ear. "If you really want to know though, I can think of somet-"

"Back off, Marvel!" Clove barked as she stomped over to them and grabbed Prim by the elbow. She pulled the younger girl away from Marvel rather harshly, as she moved to stand between the two – a human wall of pure irritation. "You know Cato won't like you sniffing around his things." She snarled, missing Prim's wince.

Was that all she was to them – some kind of item that can be used, thrown away, and disregarded? An object that can easily be replaced and maybe even was utterly useless? She looked down at the hand coiled tightly around her elbow. She felt so torn; she wanted to leave – to just get away from these people that were called the Careers by District 12, but then she also knew she was more than obliged to stay. What would happen to Peeta if they found him before she did? There was a small voice at the back of her mind though. It was something she has wanted to squash down because she knew it was unacceptable.

Unacceptable but true.

_You're staying for Cato too._

She closed her eyes and willed the thought to go away. No! She wouldn't have it. She didn't care for Cato! She couldn't. He was a monster. He was going to kill Peeta in the slowest most painful way possible – that was why she was staying with them! It wasn't because of her feelings… but of course, she knew she wasn't fooling anyone.

Prim was a naturally caring and all around compassionate human being. She was the type to see the good in people and capitalize on that. Cato had been there for her when she found the she was so alone. She had thought Haymitch could be trusted, but found that he kept things from her too. By plotting behind her back, she lost faith in Haymitch, Peeta, Effie, and basically most of the people she used to believe was on her side. The only person left was Cinna, and she believed him only because he seemed to be consistently there for her – especially right after the whole confession fiasco, before Cato had taken her to her room.

Perhaps it was a fault – Katniss surely thought so. Prim, despite being rather naïve and pure, understood that there were times her unnaturally polite nature got on her sister's nerves. Just like when she had been taken hunting and had suggested to bring the dying animals back to heal them. She knew and somewhat disliked that she couldn't be more like her sister, who was strong and brave. Compared to the wonderful Katniss Everdeen, she was just little Primrose. She was the little girl  _afraid of her own shadow_.

And to think she was being called Panem's Fire Angel. She thought it ironic that a source of light would be afraid of something she helped create.

Snapping back to reality just as Clove dragged her back to camp, Prim nearly fell flat on her face if it weren't for the fact that Clove suddenly halted. Instead, she stopped mere inches from slamming into the slightly taller girl. With little to no effort, she was finally able to free her arm.

"There're only four sleeping bags." Glimmer said, eyeing Prim and Clove as she turned her back to Cato, who seemed to be a blank slate. No emotion was visible on his handsome face, and Prim wondered what was on his mind. But then it registered just what Glimmer had pointed out and Prim felt her cheeks warm up. She had passed by the paradise of supplies called the Cornucopia earlier, and she hadn't thought to grab a bag!

"I'm sure Prim can do without a sleeping bag." Cato said, surprising everyone by the name he had addressed her with and his icy glare. Prim's brows furrowed. Had she done anything wrong? Swallowing the lump in her throat, she was just about to say that she was indeed fine with the arrangement, but Glimmer intervened.

"She can share mine." The female tribute of District 1 said. "We're small enough to fit. Maybe it'll be kind of snug, but we'll manage." She met Prim's gaze, "Right?" The younger girl could do nothing but nod. She suddenly felt as if she were in another world. Glimmer was being nice to her! Cato seemed to have gone from being an aloof friend to a mere acquaintance.

Her eyes stayed on his stiff form as they all settled down to eat, with Marvel returning a few minutes after they were seated. They sat in a circle around their bags, and Prim found herself across from Cato with Marvel and Glimmer by her sides. They ate in silence, and Prim found the eerie sound of bugs and distant birds rather frightening. She only wished they would make conversation.

They watched the sky light up as Panem's Anthem began to play, and Prim's heart's loud  _thud-thud_  was quite prominent in her ears. She watched as the face of different kids flashed before them all. And she waited with baited breath to see whether or not Peeta or even Rue had survived.

The female tribute of District Three, both tributes of District Four, the male tribute of District Five, the tributes of District Six, the females of Districts Eight and Nine, and then both tributes of District Ten.

She was relieved to find that they had survived the first day of the Hunger Games. Despite being rather hurt by Peeta's lie, she still did care for the boy. Perhaps it was because they were from the same district, or maybe something deeper, but all she knew was that she might not have anything to live for in the arena if Peeta were to die. With the knowledge that he was alright, at least she could sleep properly for one more night.

When they got into their sleeping bags to head to sleep, Prim and Glimmer had their backs pressed to each other as each looked for the warmth they were unable to gain because of the lack of a fire. Eventually though, all the living members of The Alliance fell asleep and temporary tranquility washed over the entire arena.

Halfway through the night, Glimmer turned and curled up around Prim, placing an arm around the younger girl's waist and pulling her close.

"Rayon," mumbled Glimmer subconsciously.

A couple more hours later, Prim's eyes slowly opened. Finding her eyes exposed to such brightness, she mumbled incoherently and turned to face Glimmer. She was surprised to find that the older girl's arm was now wrapped around her, and she couldn't help but smile softly.

She may not have known what Marvel meant, but she had a clue. Glimmer probably had a brother back home. Someone that Prim might have resembled somehow, and maybe it was the reason Glimmer had rescued her. Even so, Prim was simply thankful. She smiled brightly at the sleeping girl before her.

"Thank you, Glimmer." She whispered, before carefully turning her back to the older girl once more.


	23. Found

Chapter Twenty-Three – Found

* * *

The sun's rays peeked from the horizon, painting a beautiful color of oranges, reds, pinks, violets, and blues in the sky. The clouds were big and fluffy, covering most of the sun, letting only select bits of light pass through and onto the forest arena that was very reminiscent of the ones surrounding Panem.

Three days into the Games found Prim and the Careers waking up to the sound of rustling leaves. Everyone was quick to get their weapon of choice, with Clove already standing, up and alert, knives up and aimed as her head swiveled slowly from side to side, looking for the intruder. Cato had sat up, and Marvel was knelt down, while Glimmer and Prim were back to back, both ready to take action. They were the epitome of a deadly team.

The past two days were very much uneventful. Only one other tribute had died – the male tribute of District Three. It hadn't been at the hands of the Careers, of that, Prim was sure of.

No one made a sound, and with a flurry of movement, Marvel threw his spear at a shady figure in the distance. Prim winced as the sound of metal piercing human flesh reached her ears, and she almost threw up supper from the previous night. Goosebumps crawled all over her body as she took note of how everyone else was unaffected by it. A canon sounded, and Marvel calmly got up to retrieve his blood-stained spear.

"Clove, fix everything. We'll be heading to the river." Cato ordered, standing up and stretching. "Glimmer, stand guard; Prim, cook food," continued he, still rather unused to the habit of calling his Ro- _Prim_  he corrected himself. Giving her a nickname was his biggest mistake. It had become a term of endearment, and that was something he neither needed nor liked.  _Endearments_  had no place in the mind of a future Victor like himself. He didn't need some weakling dragging him down.

He was Cato Hadwell.

_Brutal, bloody Cato._

He would be the Victor of the 74th Hunger Games.

Upon Marvel's return, Cato shared a look with him. Clove had told him about Marvel's move towards Prim. And while he hadn't done anything to condone or persecute him, he wanted to make sure that the District 1 tribute understood his place. He wasn't to go anywhere near  _his property_. As far as he was concerned, even if he had stopped calling her Rose, it didn't make her any less his.

He watched everyone do as he told them, and it was only when Prim had placed some slices of meat into the boiling pot of water that he turned his attention to her. With everyone on alert and the sun just beginning to shine, he had no qualms about starting a fire – especially if it meant getting a half-decent breakfast.

"Some berries would be lovely with this meat." Prim suggested as the smell of cooking meat wafted in the air. Clove and Glimmer nodded their agreement, with the latter sparing Prim a glance. "I could go and get some, if it's alright?" She offered, looking to Cato for permission. It was an unspoken agreement. Everyone had to get his permission for any and every- thing.

Cato looked at her for a while, trying to discern the best course of action before nodding. He took his sword and sheathed it.

"I'll come with you," said he, watching as she got up and didn't even bother dusting herself off to stand beside him. "Do you know where the berries are?" He asked her, wanting to plan out their move before they left camp. It would be dangerous to be unprepared. It would be better if he had some sort of map in his mind before they took even a step out of sight.

Prim nodded, "We passed by some last night, a ten-minute walk in that direction should do." She pointed slightly to her right, and with a grunt, he followed her as she led the way. He made sure to look back and around every so often, his senses alert.

From the corner of her eye, Prim watched Cato's tense movements. She still had no idea why he suddenly became a cold and uncaring person towards her. Just when she had thought a bit kindly of him when he had comforted her too! She turned around and paused in her walking, watching him with inquisitive eyes. For a moment, they did nothing but simply stare at each other, reminding Prim of their time back at the Training Center, where they had kissed on the couch with him on top of her.

"What happened?" She asked as she fiddled with the hem of her jacket.

Cato arched a brow, confused. "What are you talking about?" He had no time for this, and just wanted to get the berry-picking over with so that they could go back and eat.

She faltered slightly at his tone, but chose to persevere. "You've started calling me Prim." She pointed out.

"Wasn't that what you wanted?" Cato spat. Why did she  _care_  what he called her? She was some pesky girl from some lowly district that supposedly hated him, right? He smirked, an amusing plan formulating in his mind. "Could it be that you missed my nickname for you,  _Rose_?" He put special emphasis on the last word as he took a step closer to the smaller girl, who took one back in response.

"Y-yes but-" She frowned at her own stutter, and she racked her brain for the right words to say. "You changed." She said. "It's as if you didn't even-"

"I didn't even what?" Cato taunted. "I didn't even  _care_?" He asked, glare back into place. "Was that what you were going to say? Did you honestly think that I gave a fuck about you,  _Primrose Everdeen_? You, a pathetic little girl who broke her friend's heart in favor of keeping him alive… How could I care about someone like you?" But he was lying. They both knew it without really talking about it. They cared for each other to an extent. He wouldn't have comforted her or let her get away if he didn't. And to hear those words spoken with such intensity made Prim's lower lip tremble as tears pooled in her eyes.

"You jerk!" Tears fell one by one from her cornflower eyes. "I thought you weren't the bad guy Peeta made you out to be." She hiccoughed. "I guess I was wrong! Was the whole comforting me just an act too? Do you even plan on fulfilling your promise? Or were you going to forget it and just kill Peeta as you see fit?"

Cato's eyes hardened. Did she honestly think that all that had been some ploy to get into her good graces? But even as he found himself irked by her assumption, he was also hurt. Even after all this time, he was still the bad guy and she was still looking out for Peeta Mellark. He inhaled, taking a step closer to her, leaving only a good two feet between them. It was a move that seemed to have gone unnoticed as she continued on with her spiel.

"What about your story about Clove? Was that some lie too?" She sobbed. "Why don't you just admit it? I'm just some toy you're playing with. You're going to get rid of me, anyways, might as well admit it to my face. You told everyone you were going to kill me, regardless right?" Cato's throat suddenly clogged up. His interview replayed in his mind.

" _And what if you and Rose were left in the arena? Would you kill her?" Caesar pressed on, knowing that he would get a good scoop of hot news from the fellow before him._

" _Of course," replied Cato without missing a beat. He didn't like Caesar calling her Rose, but he would let it slide – if only to gain sponsors. "This is the games, after all."_

What should he say? That he had only said it in the heat of the moment? That he may have meant it then, but upon seeing her cry and watching her sleep so peacefully in his arms, he didn't think quite along the same lines anymore? Should he say that he had wondered about her past and thought of a future with her? With them together? What else would he say other than the very thing that he shouldn't have said – because really, he was never the best when dealing with his emotions.

"Yes." Cato snapped. "Everything was a lie and I'm just waiting for the right moment to kill you off." He snarled. "Are you happy? You know the truth now, congratulations." He brushed past her and continued on in the direction she had assumed the berries would be. Prim followed behind him after regaining what little composure she had.

It was all just a lie to him.

She irately and bitterly wiped at her tears with the sleeve of her jacket. She had thought that they had reached some sort of middle ground the night of the interviews. She had thought that perhaps she would continue to see that side of Cato that seemed to genuinely be concerned about her. She had thought that maybe his unhealthy possessive and obsessive behavior when it came to her had simmered down to a more affectionate nature.

Apparently, she had thought wrong.

They continued on in silence, with her bending to pick some berries and pocketing them. Cato kept his gaze away from her and made sure to keep his mouth shut as he scanned the area. He clenched his jaw. Did she want to leave and look for her district partner? If Peeta's life wasn't on the line, would she even stick around? Cato's brows furrowed, getting frustrated once more. He had thought he would have gotten over his unwanted attraction to her right around this time.

Prim, despite not wanting to speak to him, wasn't entire comfortable with the silence either. She opened her mouth and began to speak, not really caring whether or not he contributed to the conversation. She just wanted to fill the quiet that surrounded them.

"Back home, we called you guys the Careers." Prim said softly, causing Cato to turn to her abruptly. "Usually, it's the tributes from Districts One, Two, and Four. But really, being a Career meant you were more prepared than the others for the games." She continued on, standing up, feeling that she had gotten enough berries. "Basically, you guys are the expected winners, and whenever any of your type are introduced or reaped, almost everybody rolls their eyes." She smiled fondly at the memories her words brought up.

The corner of Cato's lips twitched as he processed his companion's words. He could feel that unwanted  _thing_  that he did in his gut when she mentioned how people from District Two were viewed in her home. It both irked and surprised him that even if the subject had such a distant connection to him, he was still very much affected by her views. He swallowed and closed his eyes momentarily. How did one go about getting rid of ridiculous feelings?

"I guess I have enough, we should get back now." Prim said, standing up in the direction that Cato believed was not the way back to their camp. He raised a brow at that, wondering if she had a poor sense of direction or if she was purposefully trying to lead him away. Did she have a plan? He eyed her suspiciously as he began to walk towards the right way to their camp.

She would follow if she wanted. He wasn't going to order her to do so. He wanted to get her out of his system, and he was pretty sure getting accustomed to being indifferent to anything she did would be the best way to do so. But then again, he would end up killing Peeta then – so really, there was no way that he wouldn't react to something she directly or indirectly had a hand in.

Prim watched him walk farther away from her, and she frowned, her lips curling into a pout subconsciously. Where was he going? Wasn't this the way back to camp? She turned to the direction she had been heading to earlier. All the trees really did look all the same to her, so she it was possible that she was lost. Her eyes stayed on Cato's back. She could feel him waiting. This was her chance to escape – to leave and find Peeta or Rue and stay with them! Anxiety washed over her in waves. Should she take it? She might never get the chance again.

She took a step away from Cato, eyes longingly searching for a mop of blonde hair to catch her attention. When she saw none, she turned on her heel and ran straight towards Cato, only stopping when she was right beside him. She noticed him relax slightly but did not comment upon it. She thought she would sigh, but was surprised to find that there was no held breath for her to release. Without prompt, they began to head back to the camp.

* * *

"You two took your time," said Glimmer with a raised brow as the duo came into view. She, Marvel, and Clove were seated around the boiling meat, and have been wondering when Cato and Prim would return.

"Sorry," murmured Prim softly as she knelt to fix their meal. She kept her gaze down and worked in silence, piquing Glimmer and Clove's curiosity, though the former did try to hide it. Prim was normally perkier than that.

"We're heading off right after we eat." Cato reminded everyone as he took his seat beside Clove – right across Glimmer. He was keeping his eyes on anything and anywhere but Prim. He didn't want to see her – didn't want the way he had felt so relieved when she had willingly come with him. Despite his questions threatening to spill from his mouth, he kept a stoic façade. He wasn't supposed to get attached to anyone.

The admission alone left an unwanted taste in his mouth. He wasn't going to lose because of this girl.

* * *

Another day passed, and they found out that the person Marvel had killed was District Eight's male tribute, which meant there were only twelve tributes left. The tributes of Districts One, Two, Eleven and Twelve, the female of District Five, the tributes of District Seven, and the male tribute of District Ten. Prim could feel the end drawing near. She supposed it was rather odd that the gamemakers hadn't done anything to spice things up yet, and she knew that every move they made could be leading them to a trap or worse – their death.

They came to a stop in a clearing, the Careers wanting to discuss what their next course of action would be. They weren't making much headway by simply walking around, and just when they were about to conclude where they were going to go, smoke in the distance caught their eyes and noses. Everyone turned to each other before nodding and breaking off into a sprint towards the direction of the fire. Prim's heart raced as she struggled to keep up with them. They have trained their whole lives for moments like these, and Prim's only way to keep up with them was to stay light on her feet and not overexert herself, else she would get too tired and might become over fatigued.

Consumed in her thoughts, Prim was unable to realize that someone had been following her until that someone took her by the waist and pulled her back as a hand was placed over her mouth to prevent her from gaining her previous companions' attention.

She broke into a cold sweat, her life flashing before her eyes. She remembered her father, albeit hazily. She recalled his beautiful voice accompanied by her sister's. She recalled her mother's beautiful smile and the first time she laid her eyes upon Lady and Buttercup. She recalled hanging out with the Hawthornes and her first trip into the woods. She saw in her mind the first time she met Cato and her handshake with Peeta. More memories came to mind, and it took a while before it registered in Prim's mind that there was no longer an arm or a hand on her.

Surprised, she looked around and found herself looking into the eyes of Peeta Mellark. She gasped, throwing herself at him and placing her arms around his body, pulling him into a tight hug. His arms went around her, and she heard and felt him sigh.

"You're here," breathed Peeta as he placed a kiss to the top of Prim's head. "I'm so sorry, Prim." He said as they broke apart. "I never wanted to hurt you. Believe me. I only wanted you by my side – away from him – to keep you safe – to have you here." His words were broken apart as he tried to comprehend the fact that he was really with Prim. His smile stretched his face and the brightness in his eyes was clear as day.

Prim's smile didn't falter as he apologized. She had long made peace with what he had done. Explanations would be nice, but she found that when you were about to die within the next few days, you tend to forgive any and every wrong ever done unto you. When she died, she wanted to do so with a light heart.

"It's okay, Peeta." She said, pulling him into another hug.


	24. Missing and Missing

Chapter Twenty-Four – Missing and Missing

* * *

After a minute or so of catching up, Prim learned that Peeta and Rue had teamed up and were running away from the fire's origin because they knew that it would have attracted the Careers. It had been by pure luck that they were not discovered and the Peeta had seen Prim. Nevertheless, Peeta had made it clear Prim shouldn't go back to the Careers because none of them had any idea what they might do to her. She had agreed but not because of the reason they had stated, but because she didn't know how she could face Cato and Clove. She never thought she would come to care for them as much as she did, and even Glimmer and Marvel whom she had never really held a proper conversation with made her nervous about what they would say.

Would they see it as her betrayal? Surely Clove would understand that she had never meant to leave! Peeta had taken her, and though it had been her decision to stay, where would she have gone anyways? She was unaware of their location, and had no idea if she  _wanted_  to know where they were judging from the three canon fires that sounded.

"Are you okay?" Peeta asked worriedly as he moved to sit in front of Prim. He placed a finger underneath her chin, tilting her head up so that he could look into her eyes. Anxiety was the most prominent expression to be seen in her blue orbs, and Peeta felt a pang of hurt at the thought that even as she was with him in that moment, her mind was elsewhere – probably with  _Cato_.

Prim's nod did nothing to sate Peeta's worry. He slipped both his hand onto hers and intertwined their fingers. He smiled and closed his eyes, pulling Prim closer. He reveled in their closeness and in the intimacy that his touch and their position held.

"Hey guys, you two look sweet," said Rue cheekily as she blinked up at them. "But I'm going to have to say that we have to get going. Those Masters aren't going to be too happy about losing Prim, I think." She shrugged, "Well, at least I think Cato won't." She sent Peeta a meaningful look, and the boy gave her a stiff nod in response.

Prim, despite having a vague understanding of the conversation taking place right in front of her, was still very much in a world of her own. She hadn't even been separated from Cato for more than an hour and she was already wondering what he was doing – or rather,  _how_ he was doing.

"Rue's right," said Peeta, tightening his hold on Prim and taking a couple of steps back. He tugged on her softly, calling her name tentatively. "Prim? We need to get going." Rue went to take her other hand, sensing that something was off with Panem's Fire Angel. What was going through her head? They led her through the forest, eventually ending up in a rather dense part of it, and they were surprised when the docile Prim suddenly shivered and pulled herself away from their grasp. She had sensed something they hadn't, and wanted to get considerably farther away from their current position.

The telltale hum of flowing electricity reached Prim's ears as they neared an area filled with trees and tall grass. She frowned as she took two steps ahead of her new travel companions. She closed her eyes and let her ears do their work. Without thinking, she reopened her eyes and bent to pick up some random rock. She held it firmly in her hand for a minute before throwing it in the direction she thought the buzz-like sound was coming from.

Her eyes opened at the moment that  _something_  should have happened.

But nothing did.

And so she turned to Peeta and Rue, who were both eyeing her curiously.

"I – I thought I heard s-something." She explained. Meeting Peeta's gaze, she wondered if he would understand what she had done just with her eyes alone. She had thought there was a force field that was much like what was at the rooftop of the Training Center. Apparently, she had been wrong. She licked her lips, walking over to her two companions; she pulled them into a tight group embrace. "We should go on."

And so they did.

They went on their journey, making sure that no one was following them. And when nightfall came, they found that District 7 no longer had a tribute, and that the same went for District 9. There were only nine tributes left, and she knew that if another one died, then the District Interviews would begin.

With them gone, they didn't notice how the rock Prim had thrown returned to the ground – as if having bounced back.

* * *

Spending six days with Rue and Peeta were an entirely different experience to her time with the Careers. Where Cato led one band of well-trained soldiers with an iron fist, Peeta, Rue, and Prim, on the other hand, took turns and had an equal responsibility when it came to their chores.

Prim had learned to hunt within the first day of her stay with the duo, easily managing to snag them two squirrels. Of course, that wasn't to say that she was all too happy about killing another living creature, having cried for the better part of the day – most especially when the dead squirrel was placed over the open fire to cook. She only ate two bites before saying that she can't stomach anymore and settled for the berries.

On the third day of those six days, Prim warmed up to her hunt, finding herself a little proud. She didn't think she would ever be able to provide anything for anybody, and now to feel as if Peeta and Rue somewhat depended on her, she understood what Katniss must've felt all those years.

She looked down at the small blade in her hand before letting her gaze wander to Rue sitting lazily on a branch, nibbling on her share of the day's hunt – a bird that had landed too close for comfort.

Rue had become their personal eye in the sky. She had an affinity for climbing trees and made special use of it by figuring out if there was anyone around and being their look out. She slept on the branches while Peeta and Prim shared the measly blanket that Prim had in her pack. Rue was also the one to point out where they should be heading next, for where they cooked and where they ate were two entirely different locations. They never consumed her kill the same place they cook them for fear that the Careers might follow the smoke to them, and they have been safe so far.

Prim watched as Peeta reappeared with some strawberries that looked very delicious indeed. He turned to her, as if knowing that she had been watching him, and smiled.

The boy with the bread became their cook, berry hunter, and all-around comforter. He would be the one to cook her game – and clean it too, if needed – and would also be the one to call on when they should go. Unless Rue was to state otherwise, this has only happened once within those six days.

"Have you eaten?" Peeta asked, handing her beautifully red and ripe strawberry. It was nearly as big as her fist, and she took it with a grateful smile. She nodded and made some room so that they could both settle between the huge protruding roots of the tree she was leaning against. He took the position and popped a smaller berry into his mouth.

Rue's giggle gained the two other tribute's attention, and Peeta's blush and Prim's confused brow only served to have Rue smiling innocently. The girl from the district that specialized in agriculture thought that her two friends made quite an adorable pair, and she only hoped they worked things out. She had seen that Cato wouldn't be letting go of Prim anytime soon, and it made her wonder what would become of the love story unfolding before her very eyes. She finished off her part of the day's hunt and got down from the tree, watching as Prim rested her head on Peeta's shoulder, tears pouring out of her eyes. From the looks of it, she wasn't crying because of the kill, especially if Peeta's whispered words of comfort were anything to go by. She frowned. They were probably talking about home.

She bent down and dug a hand-sized hole before burying the bone in it. She made sure to cover it up with leaves so as not to show that they had been there. It had been the routine for them, and she was glad that it had been working for them so far. Walking over to them, she smiled sympathetically.

"What's wrong?"

"We all miss home," replied Peeta, tucking Prim under his arm and flushed against his side. "But anyways, I'm sure Buttercup and Lady are doing just fine – probably waiting for your return because Katniss has been threatening to either eat them or turn them into a hat." The statement earned a laugh out of the weeping blonde girl, and she thanked her two companions for putting up with her tears.

"It's fine," said Rue smoothly. "We understand." She said, smiling and offering a hand to Prim to help pull her up. The older girl took the offered hand and both pulled the other into a hug. Before long, Rue's tears began to fall as well. Prim wasn't the only one to miss her home.

Peeta rubbed soothing circles on both girls' backs, and spoke in a soft tone, "We better get going. We can't risk staying around for long." Prim nodded, and both District Twelve tributes guided the youngest of their little group as she tried to curb her sobs.

They were only about three yards away from their starting point when a tree suddenly fell just a few feet in front of them. Prim's and Rue's reactions were to gasp, while Peeta's was to stiffen. How had it fallen? Who had caused it and why? Another one fell, this time a bit closer to them, and they all understood.

It was time to run.

* * *

**CATO**

The ground shook, and Cato, Clove, Marvel, and Glimmer all looked around. What was that? They had frowns marring their features and everyone could feel that something was off. Cato's mind was going on overdrive.

It had been almost a week.

A week without Prim – for she was really no longer his Rose, was she? – and his mind still hadn't quite let go of her. He didn't understand, but he had a feeling that if they followed the source of the loud noise and the rumble of the ground, they would find them…  _He would find her_.

With determination pouring off of him in waves, Cato turned his head to a random direction. "We'll go on as usual. There are five other people out there for us to get rid of, after all." Everyone nodded, and they set off to end the stalemate that the game seemed to have come to. The silence of the forest was something they have grown accustomed to, and no one does anything to fill it – unlike how Prim had talked to him during that time they went to gather berries.

His fist clenched at the thought. He wasn't supposed to be thinking about her!

Passing through various trees that they've probably gone by before, Cato grunted. No matter what he did, Primrose Everdeen always crawled back into his mind. He knew she was still alive, and he assumed that he was with Peeta simply because he couldn't see her surviving on her own. She was the type of person to need someone. He had been foolish to think that it was  _him_  she needed.

His eyes widened, but he kept up the façade of indifference as they kept on walking.

When had he thought that?

He couldn't answer it because he hadn't thought it – he had just automatically assumed that without him, she wouldn't have even gotten as far as she had. Without him, she would've been with Peeta from the start until the end. Without him, she wouldn't have to choose between Peeta's life or staying by his side. Without him, she wouldn't have been able to change his life, because really, that's what she's done.

She had affected not only him as a person – but his entire life. Maybe even the life he'll live after the games. But that didn't mean he loved her.

He didn't love her. He wasn't looking to woo her and have her fall for him and ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after. He viewed her as  _his_. She was supposed to stay by his side and away from that annoying bloke, Peeta Mellark. She was supposed to hate him for the rest of their undeniably short lives – because he never went after anything or anyone that has cared for him from the get go. Clove had found him annoying as kids. His own mother did not care for him while his father was barely present in his life. Prim had started out terrified of him, that he was sure of, and it had made hunting her down all the more fun.

"I think it's best if we return to the Cornucopia." Glimmer suggested, breaking everyone away from their thoughts. "The arena's too big and we all know they're going to need supplies, so we can set up camp there and wait for them to come to us." But they all understood what Glimmer had left unsaid. They were going to wait for the gamemakers to call for a feast.

And with how things were going, it won't be long before Cato would see Prim again.

Fuck.

There he went thinking about her again!


	25. The Flames

Chapter Twenty-Five – The Flames

* * *

As they ran, another thing clicked in the trio's mind. It was getting warmer – rather, it was getting  _hotter_. It was too warm to be natural, and as Rue turned her head slightly to look back, she figured out why.

Bright orange flames that were so hot they began to glow blue at the tips followed the trail they had unintentionally made with their steps. A large fireball came rushing towards them, and in an act of pure adrenaline and instinct, Prim tackled Rue to the ground. They fell on a pile of leaves, panting. They didn't even have time to ask whether the other was okay as Peeta pulled Prim up and they began to run once more, with Prim and Rue's hands clasped tightly together. They weren't going to let the other burn to death.

"Head to the stream!" Peeta ordered as they swerved to the aforementioned direction. Prim and Rue wordlessly nodded.

They ran over the leaf-covered forest floor, their boots crunching the dried leaves and other debris beneath them. In that moment none of them bothered to check whether or not they were still together. It wasn't uncommon that the Tributes were fighting against the Arena – or rather, the gamemakers. The entire populace of Panem was probably glued to their places with their eyes stuck to the screen. They were no doubt wondering what would become of the unlikely trio Prim, Peeta, and Rue made.

Prim stumbled slightly, and when she caught sight of the stream, she immediately dove in. Holding her breath and staying submerged for half a minute or so, she broke the surface when the need for air was too much.

She gasped, struggling to supply enough oxygen into her lungs. She looked around, frantically searching for her friends. Her eyes landed upon Rue, who was struggling to stay afloat, her arms flailing about without so much as a coherent way of processing how she was managing to call out for help.

"PRIM; get Rue!" ordered Peeta, but Prim didn't need to be told twice as she was already halfway towards the caramel-skinned girl. She had never been more grateful that her father had taught her to swim when he was alive. She may have thought nothing of it then, but now she understood what it meant to be prepared for anything. She slipped an arm around Rue and heaved with all her might as she paddled to Peeta.

Peeta took Rue out of Prim's grasp when she got close enough. He had been lucky to find that the water had only been chest deep – any higher and he probably wouldn't have made it. His heart pounded as he laid Rue on the nearby bed of grass.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath as he caught sight of an unsightly red blotch running from Rue's knee to her ankle. He couldn't help the face he made as he looked away. "Prim," he croaked, unable to say much more than her name. It was enough to get her to come over, he noted gratefully. Even as she struggled to breath evenly, she was more than willing to help out.

When Prim caught sight of the blood oozing out of Rue's open wound, she neither flinched nor gagged. She simply studied it, years of experience alongside her mother telling her that she should clean it and then see what would be the best diagnostic for the young tribute. Licking her lips, Prim lifted her jacket slightly, and with her knife, tore a bit of fabric from her shirt. She didn't bat an eye at the cold wind that ran up her exposed skin. She looked back and jogged to the river, dipping the cloth so as to dampen it.

She ran to her companions, seeing that Peeta had placed Rue's head on his lap, so that she had a slightly more comfortable position than lying flat on the ground. Kneeling by the nasty-looking burn on Rue's leg, Prim placed the damp cloth to her friend's injury cooing words of comfort when Rue hissed in pain.

"I'm sorry, but we need to at least somewhat counter the heat." She inhaled deeply, turning her head from Rue to Peeta. She could see that he didn't seem to be the type to stomach such gruesome injuries, and she decided to not push him to do something he would be very much uncomfortable with. "Watch over her – I'll go look for something to help the burn… Maybe some herbs or something – there's bound to be something around, right?"

Peeta nodded, and just as Prim laid the still wet cloth upon Rue's burn, the youngest of the trio spoke up.

"Don't go," pleaded Rue. She raised a hand towards Prim as she used her other arm to push herself up onto a sitting position. She winced at the pain, and Prim's worried expression made way for her frown. Why wouldn't Rue want her to get something for her burn? "I'll be fine." Rue continued. "We need to get going – the stream attracts others. Why don't we just refill our containers and then head on out?"

Prim pursed her lips and met Peeta's gaze over their injured companion's shoulder. She could see that he wanted to move on, but that he was also worried about Rue's state. He abruptly pulled himself together, standing up, silently commanding his companions' attention.

"Rue's right." Peeta nodded, "We should get going. I'll carry her so that we can cover a bit more ground – we can go ahead and get a head start; why don't you take care of restocking our supplies?" He offered, eyes darker than usual as it seemed to ooze with the hidden message behind his words. He was giving Prim an opportunity to look for something to help soothe the burn, and she was going to take it without a second thought.

Prim bent over to take the bit of cloth she had used as a towel. She took it back to shore and placed it in the water once more. The blood that had been absorbed by the material flowed freely as it blended with the water, and she did her best to rid the fabric of as much blood as possible. When she was satisfied, she handed the cloth to Rue, who was settled in Peeta's arms bridal style.

"Keep this on your burn." She instructed Rue, who nodded with an amused smile. Seeing Prim be a healer so effortlessly was an interesting sight for the curly-haired girl. Prim then smiled at Peeta, "I'll be sure to catch up with you guys later."

She watched them take a couple of steps into the woods before turning back to the stream – a few meters away from where she had washed the cloth – and dipped the empty water container in it until it was filled. She placed the three containers into her bag before setting out into the woods to look for useful herbs.

* * *

"Do you believe that she's different now?" Clove asked as she fell into step beside Cato, her voice barely above a whisper.

Looking at her from the corner of his eye, Cato grunted. He had been aware of it from the moment he had stared into Prim's captivating blue eyes during their moment on the couch of the Training Centers second floor. He knew if he closed his eyes he could still see her beneath him.

He could see her eyelashes fanned out beautifully as it framed her expressive light blue eyes. He could remember her scent, an intoxicating mix of vanilla, mint, and something that was simply just Primrose Everdeen. The way her eyes seemed to betray her emotions and still managed to pin him in his place was lost to him. How could some  _stranger_  that was so sweet and utterly  _unlike him_  become such a big fixture in his mind?

"Relax," whispered Clove, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're shaking – like  _literally_  shaking." She said, running her hand up and down his arm in a calming gesture. Clove frowned, "What's gotten you like this?" She could see that there was something in his mind – something he didn't want her to know. In fact, they were so caught up in their own world that they didn't notice Glimmer and Marvel veer off on their own.

"It's nothing." Cato snarled, shoving Clove out of the way. He didn't need Clove digging into his mind and finding something he wasn't all too ready to admit out loud. In fact, he didn't need any one of these buffoons he surrounded himself with. He looked around, wanting to see whether or not Glimmer or Marvel could take the front of their formation for a while.

They arrived in time to raise a brow at Cato, wondering what he wanted with them. There was not a hint of them having left at all, and Clove even smiled as she regarded Glimmer.

"Marvel, walk up front. Glimmer and Clove, lookout, I'll stay at the back." Cato ordered seamlessly, and they all fell into step at the aforementioned places. He sighed as he hung his head. He should have been over it by now.  _Over her_. What was wrong with him?

His eyes narrowed as the hairs on the back of his neck stood. He had a feeling they were being watched, and he didn't like it. It was one of those very rare moments wherein he couldn't pinpoint where the onlooker was. He pursed his lips, his grip on his sword tightening.

He knew that it couldn't have been his Prim or Peeta. They wouldn't risk getting caught by trailing after his crew. This meant it would have been either one of the District Eleven tributes or the District Five girl. It surprised him how a female could have survived on her own – not that he belittled women, but he always thought they worked better and more efficiently with others. Apparently, this girl liked to be alone and was rather proficient at it. He only had to make sure that she wasn't as proficient with any type of weapon or whatsoever.

* * *

They arrived at the Cornucopia a good three hours later, and all were careful to walk a path that didn't place them in danger with the land mines. They were just a step or two away from being safe when movement caught Marvel's eye. He was quick to command Glimmer.

"Glimmer; 1 o'clock." He stated firmly, and the girl didn't even bother making sure that she aimed properly as she shot into the general direction described by her partner. The loud canon that echoed told them that she had hit her target, and they continued onwards to the Cornucopia.

Cato momentarily felt dreadful. What if that had been Prim? And it very well could have, for none of them had seen who it was. All they knew was that the person was now on the ground, lifeless. He knew he would have to take the body away so that the gamemakers could take it back, but he also felt his anxiety build at the possibility of it being his Prim.

He steeled himself as he walked straight to the direction of the body and couldn't help himself from sighing as he found his gaze locked onto the fiery red mass of curls surrounding a pale face. Both eyes were open, revealing bright blue orbs, but one had an arrow sticking out of its socket, and he didn't bat an eye as he pulled the girl up and threw her over his shoulder to take her ten or so yards away. His companions knew what to do. And like well-oiled machines, they did as they were accustomed to. Glimmer set up the sleeping bags and guard, Marvel started the fire, and Clove fixed the supplies. And then they would all take turns until Cato returned – at which point one of the girls would cook while both guys stood guard.

They weren't worried about anyone coming to them should they start a fire. With the odds in their favor, there was little chance for someone to come and kill them without getting killed in return.

* * *

Depositing the body of the District 5 female tribute in a ditch, Cato scanned his surroundings.

There was a definite shift in the atmosphere. He had a feeling he would see his Prim soon. He only needed to wait and bide his time and perhaps Peeta Mellark would come into his territory as well. He would be there, waiting. A small smirk tilted his lips as he made his way back to camp. He would enjoy drawing out Peeta Mellark's death.

* * *

The sound of the canon had Prim nearly toppling over as she bent to pick up some familiar looking herbs with lavender colored tips and yellow stems. She knew it would help ease the burn if it was crushed or pounded into little pieces to let the juices out. The milk from the herb would help ease the pain, and it would buy them enough time for her to perhaps ask Haymitch for help.

Thanks to the canon's signal though, she was beginning to question her idea. What if the canon sounded because of Rue? She felt her heart speed up as it seemed to get caught in her throat as well. What if she had been too late and her wound had gotten infected? She inhaled deeply, to calm herself. She would have to see for herself whether or not her suspicions were right.

In the time that they had been together, Prim, Peeta, and Rue had never really separated for more than thirty minutes. And as she looked at the slowly setting sun, she realized that she had to find her companions quick, or risk being alone in the woods with the Careers or Thresh possibly finding her. She closed her eyes and sighed as she began to walk.

"Haymitch, get us something for Rue's burn, if you please." She whispered it as if it were a prayer, and in that moment, it was. She wanted nothing more than to get back to Peeta and Rue and then be able to treat her friend.

That was what she had always been and should always be – a healer.


	26. Interlude: Home Misses You Too

Chapter Twenty-Six – An Interlude: Home Misses You Too

* * *

Katniss Everdeen regretted letting her sister go into the arena the moment she was on that stage. She hated going a week without seeing Prim's radiant smile or her shining blue eyes. Without her face to wake up to, Katniss was very much tempted to attempt to turn Buttercup into stew just to see whether or not Prim would suddenly appear and reprimand her for it.

In that week where the tributes were being trained, all of Panem was given the chance to watch the previous games. And by that, they meant making sure that it was the only thing airing on every possible gadget. In that week, Katniss spent more than most of her time hunting. Usually Gale was by her side, but he had to leave and attend to his family too, so she was left alone to think about how she had utterly  _failed_  at being the protector to her little sister.

To see that she had scored an eleven both unnerved and calmed Katniss. She knew that because of this, the Careers would target her, but it also meant that the sponsors would be looking at her as a prime candidate to win. Even as she wondered what Prim and Peeta did to get their high scores, she just wanted to be able to go to the Capitol and have Prim returned. She would take her place. She couldn't bear the thought of her little sister, who was afraid of her own shadow, fight to the death in an arena that would probably stink of death.

The Interviews became Katniss' only hope of making sure that her beautiful sister – now called Panem's Fire Angel – stayed in her mind and heart forever. But then she heard and watched as Ceasar talked to that  _Career_  and brought up her sister.

" _There've been leaks of your and Panem's Fire Angel's relationship." He continued, "It seems that you two are more than just friends, especially when Peacekeepers have been said to have had to take you away from one Peeta Mellark."_

Relationship? When did that happen? Prim wasn't that type of person! She was sweet and innocent. It was impossible for her to like someone like this Cato person. And then Peeta? Does he want Prim too? Thoughts swirled in her head and she nearly fell, but had enough sense to lean against Gale for support.

" _What Rose and I have is_ different _."_

What did that mean? Was Prim really involved with such an… a… a different man? He looked to be around Katniss' age – give a year or two – and for heaven's sake he was tall! She wouldn't do it. There was no way Katniss would let Prim be with that man. And yes, she realized that she didn't really have any power to dictate what Prim did anymore, but such instincts couldn't be reigned in easily.

" _And what if you and Rose were left in the arena? Would you kill her?"_

She felt herself stiffen at the question.

" _Of course,"_

Katniss wasn't quite sure why she was angry. She had expected him to say so, but there was no denying that a small part of her was hoping that he would say no, and that he would kill himself before hurting Prim, because that's what she would've done. Prim was the only person she knew she loved in her life, and nothing was going to change that. She met Gale's reassuring gaze and nodded slightly befre refocusing on the screen. Yes, Prim was the only person she knew she loved, but the calm that Gale seemed to have sent her through their meeting gaze alone told her that it wouldn't be that way for long.

The rest of the interviews went on, and when time came for Prim's interview, Katniss smiled as she saw her little sister in white. She truly looked like an angel, and there was no denying that the chances of her gaining sponsors were high, especially with the score she got.

And then she began talking and Katniss could hear her mother crying in the distance. She had missed her voice. They all had. She was unable to tear her eyes away from the screen until she watched Prim exit, and that was when she saw all those people with tears in their eyes. She knew that Prim was well-liked in their area, but she didn't have any idea that she was so well-liked she had wormed her way into people's hearts. Everything would change whether or not Prim returned, because even if she hadn't meant to, she was a big part of District Twelve – or at the very least, the Seam.

She didn't think that the next interview would capture her attention as much as Prim's had, but Peeta Mellark proved to be a rather memorable man.

" _I once met the most amazing girl." He said. "She had brown hair down in braids and had the most beautiful singing voice I have ever heard. I loved her. But then someone taught me that I didn't even know her. I didn't know her likes, dislikes. I didn't know of her dreams and fears. So I realized that I loved my idea of her."_

Katniss Everdeen felt her entire world halt as she stared at the boy who had thrown her some bread all those years ago. A hand went to twiddle with the tip of her braid – the very same one that the boy had described, and she wondered when all this had come around. For a brief second, she chanced a look at Gale, whose intense gaze told her that they would talk about it later, when there was no one to overhear their conversation.

" _So I figured out that it wasn't love. It was just a crush – an infatuation, even." He continued, "So this person that helped me realize that – she's simply wonderful. She's kind, beautiful, and so unlike what I've ever imagined her to be."_

Whoever this person was, Katniss would have to thank them sometime. They were right on that account. Other than that brief encounter involving pigs, bread, and rain, she hadn't spoken two words to Peeta Mellark. To think that he had  _liked_  her and may have even been watching her from afar was both unnerving and annoying.

" _I love her now, and I'm beginning to fall in love with her."_

She frowned, and though she couldn't see it, she knew Gale did too. Why did they have a bad feeling about this?

" _So I take it that you'll be winning her over when you're crowned the Victor, then?" Caesar asked, and everyone was left speechless when Peeta shook his head._

" _I can't. She's here with me." The silence hung in the air as everyone processed his words. And as if it wasn't already clear, he continued, "I'm falling for Primrose Everdeen."_

A door slammed close and everyone looked around. It took a moment for them to realize that Gale and Katniss had been the ones to leave so abruptly.

"WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS?!"

Katniss' sharp glare throws him off, but he continued to say profanities as they walked through the woods. She had never seen him this angry before, and it makes her wonder about what if she was in Prim's place. Would he be reacting this way as well? Maybe worse…?

She didn't offer any comfort other than watching him, her eyes reflecting the anger he felt and the confusion lurking within her.

"Why are you so mad?" She asked with a shake of her head, looking up at him as she takes her bow out. Gale looked at her as if she was insane and she rolled her eyes. "I'm angry too, but I'm her sister. It's sort of my job to be outraged and all that you know?" She reflexively clenched her fists, "She's a bigger target now because of his stupid confession and I hate that. I want to march right up there and just shoot an arrow straight through everyone's heads to protect her –  _but I can't_." She sighed, frustrated; she almost didn't feel when Gale placed a hand on her back. "She's out there all alone, Gale, and I'm supposed to sit by and watch as she fights for her life."

It didn't register when the tears start to fall, but all she knew was that Gale was pulling her into his arms and comforting her. They stood there, hidden from civilization, basking in each other's comfort and knowing that things between them would never quite be the same again.

Especially if the kiss they shared afterwards was anything to go by.

Her lips were set in a grim line as she realized that it had been ten days since she had kissed Gale. Things between them hadn't exactly changed by a wide margin (they still hunted together and were still very much attached at the hip), but there were the lingering stares, the kisses, and then the embraces. None of the latter two were done in public, but no one would have thought they were  _not_  together simply by the way they acted. It was as if they were a single unit; a circle which had no beginning and no end. Moving seamlessly and talking without having to use much – or any – words, it was as if they were a couple without exactly making it official.

As the credits began to roll, Katniss leaned back into Gale's chest.

"District Interviews," said he, resting his chin atop her head. "That'll be interesting." His sarcasm wasn't lost on her, but all she could really think of was the fact that Prim had gotten this far after going through so much. She could win it if everything fell into place, and that was enough to keep her calm if only for a few moments.

* * *

"Katniss, we're being called to the Justice Building."

Her mom's voice was still surprising to her. She had been so used to the shell of a mother she had had to live with for some time that to see her mother nearly the same as she had been before her father died was something she was still getting used to. She swallowed. She couldn't believe that it had to take Prim leaving for her mother to get a whole lot better, but she tried not to resent her for it. Prim wouldn't have wanted animosity between the two women she loved, after all.

"What for?" She asked dryly. She really didn't want to be anywhere that was remotely connected to the Capitol in anyway. She might wreck something if she was.

"I believe it's because of the District Interviews."

And they had been right. Katniss and her mother had found out that the Interviewers would be coming in the night, and that tomorrow – bright and early – they would be conducting the interviews. First would be with the families on their own, and then each member of the family, then the interviewer would ask whoever else they thought important.

"So you're  _the_  Katniss Everdeen? Panem's Fire Angel's dear,  _dear_  sister?" The Interviewer's horrible accent and over the top look already had Katniss wanting to shoot an arrow through her head, but then to have Prim be referred to as something that their corrupt and sadistic government owned…

Katniss was more than through with the interview. Well, Gale did bet she would only last a minute. Despite the murderous thoughts in her mind though, she nodded.

"Yeah," replied the brunette. She was dressed in some frilly yellow thing that was so unlike her because of those stylists. They were the very same ones that dressed Prim, and while she could admit that she looked better than usual, she hated looking like such a helpless girl.

"Tell us, what does it feel like? Seeing your sister inside the arena… watching as two handsome men fight for her affection – one of them even properly admitted it on his interview!" Katniss honestly thought the Capitol had accidentally sent a fan girl as opposed to a professional to conduct the interview. Playing with the hem of her dress, Katniss thought about her answer, just like Haymitch had ordered her too. She could just hear his gruff voice;  _'you better think before you speak, kid. Prim's sponsors will be watching – and they aren't the type to like any imperfection.'_

"I'm not really sure what to think – other than be worried and hope that she gets out the Victor." Katniss answered. It was honest in a way that told Panem that she truly did care for her sister, but it was also a lie because she  _did_ know what to think of her sister's predicament in regards to those two boys who were supposedly fighting for her affections. None of them deserved her sister.

The interview went on with Katniss and the interviewer pretending to care about what the other was saying.

Katniss Everdeen  _honestly_  thought it was a load of bullshit.

That Career – Cato? – was no doubt using Prim. He had admitted that he would kill her without a second thought! She didn't understand why her sister decided to go after and then stick with those ruthless people, but she was pretty sure that there was a good reason behind it. Prim wasn't the type to be drawn to danger or anything evil. That went entirely against who she was – a pure and innocent girl.

And then there was that Mellark kid.  _The boy with the bread_ , thought Katniss with a small smirk. While she had nothing against Peeta, she had everything against anyone who could think that they could fool around with her sister's feelings. And from what she had seen of the interviews – Prim falling into Cato's arms – Peeta Mellark wasn't as nice as he let on.

Primrose Everdeen was the only person Katniss was sure she loved (her feelings for Gale have yet to be classified as it were), and screw anyone who tried to hurt her. When Prim returned home, Katniss was never letting her out of her sight ever again.


	27. The Message

Chapter Twenty-Seven – The Message

* * *

Prim was beyond thankful when she arrived at the rather huge and tall tree that Peeta and Rue were settled against. Rue was carefully arranged on Peeta's lap so that her head could rest on his chest. She was sleeping soundly if the light snore Prim heard was any indication, and Prim's shoulders sagged in relief. Rue would live another day.

The herbs she had were a good seven inches long, each. She had an idea on how she could crush it, but didn't know whether or not Rue would mind. Deciding to take a chance, she knelt by Rue's wound, meeting Peeta's eyes briefly before chewing the herb to get the juice flowing out of it. When she felt it was pasty enough, she spat it out into her hand and began to massage it onto her friend's wound.

In the dim light that the sun's fading rays provided, she could see that it hadn't gotten any better. She hoped that by the time Rue woke up, the burn wouldn't be as bad as it was now. She continued with the process of chewing and then applying until the entire wound was covered. She kept some of the herbs in her bag should they need it again tomorrow.

When she stood to stretch, the national anthem began to play, breaking the serene moment that had clouded the three. Rue's eyes slowly opened as Prim and Peeta looked up at the sky. The logo appeared and then the face and details of the tribute who died. It had been the female District Five tribute.

There were eight Tributes left. Eight tributes from four districts, and she understood that this meant that the District Interviews have either begun or are being conducted. She imagined Katniss and maybe Rory or Gale being interviewed. They would be dressed in some cute clothes that Cinna and Portia would have picked out, and she could just see Katniss looking beautiful in a dress.

As her eyelids began to drop, she settled beside Peeta, lifting Rue's legs carefully and placing them atop her own. With a sigh, she leaned against the tree fully. She was just about to doze off when Peeta's hand on top of hers made her eyes open once more.

"She'll be alright." Peeta said reassuringly, squeezing her hand. Her gaze moved from their hands to his eyes, as she smiled. There was no need for words, thought both of them with a nod.

* * *

"Prim," Rue's soft voice brought Prim out of her drowsy state. Blinking rapidly, Prim was surprised to find that Rue was no longer on Peeta's lap, and was instead leaning close to her, face just a few inches from her own.

"Hmm?" The blonde asked sleepily.

Smiling sheepishly, Rue leaned back slightly as she said, "A parachute came." She pointed upward, and Prim followed the direction of her finger and found that there was indeed a white parachute with a silver container dangling just a few feet above them. "I think it's for you."

Prim smiled to herself, careful not to let Rue see. Could it be? Haymitch got her some ointment for Rue's burns? She stood slowly, making sure she stretched a bit so that she wouldn't surprise her body into too much activity. She reached up and stood on the tips of her toes as she made to grab the small parcel.

"Hmph," Prim fell on the forest floor after losing her balance just as she got hold of the container.

Rue chuckled and offered a hand to help her up. "Are you okay?" She asked with a grin. Prim nodded and shook her head at the offered hand. She went on to open the container and indeed found a canister of ointment designed for burns. It was no ordinary one too. It was one of those high end ones that could only be found in the Capitol. How could Haymitch have afforded it? Did it mean she actually had some sponsors?

"It's for you, Rue." Prim said. "Your mentor must've sent it because of your wounds." She looked down at the container and found a small slip of paper sticking out. She carefully took the can of ointment out, making sure the note stayed inside. She knew Rue wouldn't have any of the treatment when she found out that in fact, her district hadn't sent it.

The youngest tribute's surprise was evident on her face as she took the ointment. She sat beside Prim and uncapped the cure to her burnt leg. She took a small amount and dabbed it on her wounds, hissing at the stinging sensation before sighing in relief at the cooling effect it seemed to have. She would have to thank her sponsors somehow. She didn't think she would have any in the first place!

Prim stood, her back turned to Rue, and unfolded the note gingerly.

_Choose someone._

_-H_

Impulsively, she tore the note in two and let it fall to the ground. She wasn't entirely sure she got the message right, but she had a vague idea of it. She licked her lips nervously. She didn't like where this was going. Steeling herself, she schooled her face into a smile and turned to Rue.

"How's the ointment?" She asked, squatting to be eye level with her friend. Rue had just replaced the cap and was now looking at Prim with a grateful smile.

"It's great," replied Rue honestly. She placed the ointment in her pack, and then stood up with some help from Prim. "Peeta's gone around to get us some more berries." Her voice dropped to a whisper as she continued, "I think he also tried his luck at hunting."

Prim's eyes widened at the revelation. Peeta? Hunting? That wasn't something she had expected. But then again, it was much like how nobody expected her to hunt. She smiled to herself; she and Peeta truly had a lot of things in common. They were both mild-mannered and very much against harming anyone unless necessary. Not to mention they both loved Katniss. Because really, thought Prim, no matter what he says, it would probably always be Katniss.

"You're awake." Peeta's voice roused her from her musings, and Haymitch's note immediately came to mind. She needed to choose which side she would be with. And she knew exactly which factions Haymitch spoke of.

Cato's or Peeta's.

Truth be told, she had no idea what to do or who to pick.

Should she go with her friend? The boy who confessed to loving her but she wholeheartedly believed was still in love with her sister. She was sure that with him, there would be no guarantee of her survival. She might just die from an animal attack while hunting. Or perhaps at the hands of Thresh. Maybe even a disease. But staying with him also meant she had someone to reminisce of home with. They may not have been at the same social status in District 12, but while in the games, the classes blurred and everyone just winded up being a pawn of the Capitol.

"Thresh!" Rue exclaimed, upon catching sight of her cousin.

The tall brown-skinned man that had literally walked out from the dense thicket of trees looked around, his eyes widening as he caught sight of his little cousin. "Rue?" His lips slowly curled into a smile and he opened his arms to welcome her with a hug.

Prim watched them embrace with a fond smile, though she found herself succumbing back to her trail of thoughts.

Should she choose the man who's made her feel as if she were nothing more than a toy? The guy who helped her gain more than half the tools she needed to survive in the arena by asking members of the Alliance to help her practice with their weapon expertise. This was also the same person who had surprised her with his tender way of caring for her when she had felt abandoned by her own district. And she couldn't forget that this was  _The_  Career leading the Careers. She had no doubts that he had killed his fair share back at the Cornucopia. She shuddered. Was that the man she should prefer?

"You okay, Prim?" Peeta asked, nudging her softly. He was currently roasting a rabbit, but had left it for a bit to stand by his friend. "You were off in space there."

Prim shot him a smile that told him she was thinking of things deeper than she was willing to disclose, and he knew then that it probably had something to do with him. He had once thought she was an open book, but he had learned from their time together that she was far from it. Primrose Everdeen was far from being the innocent little girl everyone perceived her to be.

"I'm just happy for Rue and Thresh, that's all." She replied. She took hold of his wrist, pulling him closer to the fire, where the cooked Rabbit was creating such a delicious smell. She smiled at the District Eleven duo sitting side by side across them.

What was going to happen to them when the time came to turn on each other? Her heart clenched at the thought. Could she really stand to hurt any of her friends?

* * *

With a yawn, Cato leaned back against the backrest of the lounge chair he was on.

Their arrival at the Cornucopia yesterday was more like a trip to a relaxation area. They had reached it just around noon and found that corpses no longer littered the ground and that there were food, weapons, tents and even certain types of furniture! Cato watched as Clove and Glimmer talked conversationally as they roasted some of the poultry. His gaze then moved to Marvel, who stood atop the Cornucopia, eyes scanning the area for anyone that would dare cross them.

Call him arrogant, but he wholeheartedly believed that no one would be stupid enough to cross them. They were four of the tributes that had the best chances of winning, after all. The only person who stood the slightest chance of getting the better of them was that bloke from District Eleven. But even then, the District Eleven tribute would be outnumbered; four to one. Cato knew they had this in the bag. And when it came down to it, he'll kill them. This was the Hunger Games. Twenty-four Tributes came in, but only one emerged the Victor.

This year, it would be him. He was sure of it.

* * *

A new day came with the sky painted an unsightly red. Cato, who had been standing watch, saw the small but destructive intruders first.

A high-pitched ear-piercing sound accompanied the small spheres falling from the sky, all of which were heading right for them. Cato's instinct told him to run, and just as he did, he screamed out Clove's name. If his friend was going to die, she was going to die by the hand of a worthy tribute. She wasn't going down because of some Capitol-created shenanigan.

All members of The Alliance woke up with a start at Cato's raised voice.

Cato watched as Clove immediately ran. It was their thing. It made them an undeniably great team. They didn't question the other when it came to life or death situations. The urgency in his voice had alerted Clove's subconscious that she needed to get out of there, and she went with it. She trusted Cato. She trusted him with her life and she knew he did hers as well.

Not once did she look back as she ran for the woods. Cato, who had seen the direction she was heading, went for the same way as well.

Glimmer wasn't asleep when Cato had alerted them. She had been blissfully daydreaming of what it would be like in heaven. Would she see her brother there? Was it nice? Peaceful…? She had jolted awake a second before Cato's call, and she quickly made a bee line to the trees. She had no destination in mind. All she knew was that she needed to get out of there, and it wasn't until she was safely a couple of yards into the forest that she realized she was utterly alone. Where was Marvel?

* * *

Smoke.

Fire.

Everything was burning.

Marvel's sleepy eyes opened to what could only be described as hell on earth. Every one of the supplies they had arranged were aflame, and as Marvel stood to get away from it all, he found that he himself was on fire. Fear was evident in both his eyes and posture. Was this his demise? His mind screamed at him to run, but his body wouldn't cooperate, and a scream wasn't even able to leave his mouth as another bomb fell on him, hitting him squarely on the head.

Just as the sky began to clear and the sun peaked, a canon sounded.

* * *

Two days came and went, and the tributes of Districts Eleven and Twelve have gotten more anxious. Any and all sources of food and water have completely disappeared. There wasn't a trace of any animal or edible substance. The only food they had left was a small strip of meat Thresh had in his pack. Their water source was limited to the canteen Peeta and Prim had. The river they used to utilize had been found dry.

They all felt themselves getting weaker, having only eaten a bite of meat each the past two days. Rue and Prim were both looking paler, Rue more so than Prim seeing as the former still needed a bit of an extra energy source. Her burns may have healed, but her ankle had been broken. None of them had noticed at first, but after having Rue walk around for a bit, everyone noticed her limp around. To be able to move from place to place, Peeta and Thresh worked in shifts in carrying her, while Prim carried all their things.

None of them liked what the lack of food and water implied.

And as if on cue, Claude Templesmith's voice echoed all throughout the arena.

" _The time has come for a feast! Food and drinks galore await those who would attend. Come and gorge in delicious treats straight from home! Join us at the Cornucopia tonight."_


	28. The Feast

Chapter Twenty-Eight – The Feast

* * *

They had no choice. Prim grimly surveyed her companions. They were starving and she knew that a couple more hours in the heat wave they were suddenly experiencing and they were going to collapse. How ironic that Panem's supposed Fire Angel wanted to relieve herself from the heat. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. Vaguely, her thoughts drifted back to the time that various explosions were heard. Had that scared all the food sources off? But then it didn't explain the water, or rather the lack thereof.

"We should go." Thresh said as he carefully laid Rue down. Prim nodded in agreement as Peeta knelt beside her to rummage through their pack. Every single one of them had a layer of sweat covering them, prompting them to remove some layers of clothing. Thresh had gone shirtless, while Peeta, Prim, and Rue had opted to remove their jackets and keep their shirt on. Seeing as her shirt only reached an inch or so above her belly button because of that time she cut a piece of it off for Rue, Prim was beginning to consider discarding her shirt in favor of her sports bra.

Peeta laid a hand atop hers, "It'll be every one for themselves when we get there." He squeezed her hand reassuringly. " _They_ 're bound to appear if they aren't already there."

"It's our best bet – unless you're all willing to die of hunger or dehydration." Rue commented as she breathed in deeply. "We're almost there, anyways." She added as she turned to the direction of the Cornucopia. "We can just grab what we need and then go."

"Easier said than done, Rue." Thresh said placidly, patting his cousin's head. "We can't bring you there – your injury might get worse."

"Thresh; you and I can grab what we need and then meet up with Prim and Rue somewhere else." Peeta suggested. Prim's eyes were boring holes into his head, but he refused to meet her gaze. They both knew that the plan was risky, but if it meant getting them food, then it would be worth it.

Anxiously, Prim pursed her lips. She didn't like the idea one bit. Between the four of them, she and Thresh had the best chances of getting out of the dangerous mission. Peeta was far too tired and dehydrated. He wasn't used to such limited supplies. She wasn't being mean-spirited, but it was the truth. Peeta never had to go a day without food. Even if it were burnt bread, it was still something. She, on the other hand, had experienced a time when Katniss was just learning to hunt, and having no food to eat. She could still run if needed, something she couldn't exactly see Peeta doing.

"I'll go instead." She said, her soft voice commanding their attention. "You're too weak right now, Peeta. Who knows what could happen there; Thresh and I are more energized." She smiled at him reassuringly. "I'll be sure to bring some delicious ingredients we could cook." Her gaze then travelled to meet that of Thresh's. He nodded at her, and she knew that he had her back on this.

"So we'll go with that?" Rue asked. "I think Peeta and I can stay here. We'll wait for you up in the trees, so that there's a smaller chance of being found, okay?" Prim and Thresh showed their affirmation with a nod, while Peeta silently disapproved. While he was well aware that they were right, placing Prim in danger was not really an option for him. Knowing he was outnumbered though, he let them go with their plan. If he couldn't protect Prim directly, then he was going to do his best to protect those that she cared about.

When night fell, Prim and Thresh left for the Cornucopia.

"Thank you." Thresh said, breaking the silence that had accompanied them for the first few yards. Prim turned her head. "You helped Rue even when you didn't have to."

She smiled. It felt nice to hear that she was appreciated. Back home, she had always been the appreciator, and Katniss was the appreciated. It made her feel like an asset to know that someone other than the person she helped out was grateful for her work.

"She's someone I care about," replied Prim softly, casting her gaze back to the path they were taking. "I'll always care and fight for them." A vision of her classmates whispering about Katniss and Gale's illegal activities crossed her mind. She could remember their demeaning and taunting words as clearly as when she had first heard them, and she had to close her eyes to discern reality from her hallucination.

"Primrose?" Thresh asked wearily. "Are you alright?" He placed a hand on her shoulder and found his eyes widening as he caught sight of a Tracker Jacker. He frowned, looking around. Where had it come from? He froze as he saw that there was a whole nest of the little buggers just a few feet above them.

"Prim?" He called out to her again, getting the sinking feeling that though her body was with him; her mind was most definitely somewhere else entirely. With a deep breath in, he scooped her up into his arms and ran. They needed to get as far away from the nest as possible. And even when his entire body protested at the notion, he pushed on. He was tired and thoroughly dehydrated, but the girl in his arms had saved his little cousin without pre-empting. It was about time he returned the favor. Thresh muttered under his breath, "For Rue."

* * *

Cato's head snapped to the side, and his eyes narrowed. He had heard the crunching of dried leaves and the snapping twigs that were reminiscent of someone stepping on them. His immediate reaction would have been to go after the culprit, but he had more pressing matters to deal with. Clove had been injured thanks to a scattered landmine, and they had been on their way to the Cornucopia to get her something to heal herself with when a large creature blocked their path.

The beast was bright orange and looked like a tiger, save for its size and white stripes. It was as tall as a foal, and as built as any healthy tiger would be, and Cato knew without a doubt that he may just be staring his death in the face. But as he looked the predator in the eye, he could see that it wasn't him it was focused on.

Oh no.

The beast was very much interested in Clove – or rather, Clove's wound. And if it had been anyone other than Clove – or Prim – he wouldn't have given a damn. But this was Clove – the same Clove that stood by him and helped him through all the fucked up situations in his life. The very girl that wouldn't hesitate to tell him things as they were, and the only person he could undoubtedly trust. She also happened to be the only girl that truly believed he had a chance of finding happiness.

"Go, Cato." Clove coughed from behind him. Even with his back to her, he could already see the way she was frowning, glaring daggers at the beast before them. Ah. If only Clove could throw some of her handy knives. But as it was, her throwing arm was damaged, and her other arm was being used to keep her standing against a tree.

"No." Cato said. "I'll kill this piece of shi-"

"DAMN IT, CATO!" Clove bellowed. "I'm done. I… I'm going to  _die_ , Cato." She pushed herself off of the tree and took a couple of steps forward, only to end up draping her good arm around Cato's arm to steady herself. "I'm not going to go all sappy on you. I just want you to leave." Humorless laughter preceded her next words, "Let me have  _my_  glorious moment, Cato. Let me live or die on my terms."

Cato turned his head back to face the beast. Seeing Clove in his peripheral vision was affecting him more than he would admit. "There  _is_  no living if I leave you, Clove. Our best bet is if I get rid of this beast and we make a ru-"

"STOP ALREADY!" Clove rested her forehead against Cato's back. "Don't you get it? There is no us, Cato. There's no team when it comes to the Hunger Games. Only alliances and enemies – remember?"

His eyes didn't dare close for fear of the beast attacking them, but he did take her words to heart. She was right – as she usually was – and he didn't want to admit it, but perhaps he had grown a childish notion of them ending as the final two. It was stupid…  _He_ was stupid. Since when did he think of such improbable things? Since when had he become so sentimental?

A brief flash or Primrose Everdeen went through his mind, and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Next time," breathed Cato as he nodded. He met her gaze briefly, and she looked up to send him a small smile.

There was nothing left to be said. Even a simple  _I love you_  would've done nothing to convey how they truly felt in that moment. Their regard towards each other went above and beyond simple love. They had been lovers at one point in their lives, but more than that, they were – and are – best friends. Having gone through so much more than either thought they could withstand, suffice to say they had always thought that they were above loving each other. They weren't halves of a whole. They were one unit. It was never supposed to be Cato or Clove. Everyone had assumed it would always be Cato  _and_  Clove.

People made mistakes, though.

As soon as Clove retracted all physical contact with Cato, he sped off.

He didn't dare look back. He knew he might do something he'd regret if he did, and he really couldn't have that happening. He only had one goal now: to win.

_And maybe get Prim away from Mellark._

* * *

Peeta frowned. He didn't like the thought of Prim going out there. Sure she had Thresh with her, but he trusted him just about as far as he could throw him. How could he know that he wouldn't desert Prim while he went on for his own selfish gain? He pinched the bridge of his nose as he and Rue settled on a particularly thick and spacious tree branch.

"Don't worry," murmured Rue as she looked up at him from the corner of her eyes. "Thresh may not look like it, but he is caring. He won't let anything happen to her."

"I…" he began, unsure of how to continue without hurting Rue's feelings. "I can't afford to think like that, Rue. Prim's… She shouldn't be here –  _you_  shouldn't be here."

Rue surprised him by chuckling. "But we are," said she somberly. "And there's nothing we can do about it other than to try and live longer." She shrugged, and Peeta felt as if ice-cold water had been poured down his shirt as gooseflesh erupted on his skin. Why did he have a feeling that Rue's had a lot of time to think about her words? They were just kids, for crying out loud! They shouldn't be thinking so morosely.

Keeping his mouth shut, Peeta tried to come up with something to say to steer their conversation away from such depressing topics. His thoughts were cut off when Rue spoke up though.

"What if it were you and Prim left?" She asked curiously. "What would you do?" It was an honest and innocent question, he realized. She wasn't egging him on. She wasn't waiting for him to say that he would kill her or that he would die for her. She wanted to know what he would've done if that were the case. He blinked, thinking about his response.

Was he ready to die?

To leave his family?

To never see his brothers again?

To never see Prim again? At this he winced. Whether he won or lost, he would never see Prim again.

It was a good minute before he replied, "I'd kill myself. Prim doesn't really understand it." And at this, they both wondered what exactly ' _it'_  was. "She doesn't understand the effect she can have." He found himself saying. And even as he replayed it in his head, he knew that it was the truth. For all of Prim's maturity, she was still very much naïve and did not understand that she had started something far bigger than any of them.

After all, a spark can set a whole forest on fire.

A scream.

A roar.

A canon fired.

Clove Kentley was dead.

Only six remained.


	29. Reunion and Separation

Chapter Twenty-Nine – Reunion and Separation

* * *

Thresh was no expert when it came to herbs, but he did know just enough to figure out which would be effective on Tracker Jacker stings. Unfortunately, he couldn't seem to stumble upon any on his way to the Cornucopia. He was thankful for the shade that the tall trees offered, however, he did wish that a breeze – even a small one – would pass them. Sweat was already covering his body, and it wasn't making the task of carrying Prim easier than it should've been. She was light enough, but with the fatigue beginning to set in, he wasn't too sure if he could go on.

Frustrated, anxious, and more than simply dehydrated, Thresh kept on going until they reached the structure where it had all begun.

The Cornucopia.

The young girl in his arms was sweating and squirming, which turned into shivering when he laid her down. He cursed under his breath, but was more than relieved when he found that the particular plant needed for treatment was growing up the side of the Cornucopia. He knelt by Prim and studied her closely for a moment, looking for the barbs of the Tracker Jackers that had stung her.

He found one of them just above her wrist and the other on her chin. He pulled both of them out, and moved some of Prim's hair away from her face. She slowly began to stop convulsing. They were both covered in dirt, but he couldn't help but think that between them, she would always look presentable. It seemed to be part of her charm. She looked so sweet – like an angel.

"Primrose," said Thresh. "The cure is by the Cornucopia. Do you want to wait or come with me?" His eyes looked around, careful not to be too absorbed in Prim's situation that another tribute might sneak up on him. He turned back to Prim when she groaned loudly, and he helped her sit up.

"I'll keep watch from here. Just help me stand and then you can go," replied Prim as she blinked rapidly to clear her vision and determine whether or not she was still hallucinating. When her feet were planted firmly on the ground, she sent Thresh off after handing him her bag to fill with supplies, and kept her hand on her improvised knife belt, which was basically some rope tied in such away that she could sheath her knives for easy access and carrying.

Blue eyes scanned the area as Prim made sure that no one could surprise her or Thresh when it came to an attack. The day was shaping to be uneventful until Thresh returned to her side, chewing something. He spat the paste onto his hand and then went on to apply it on the areas where Prim had been stung.

Thresh offered Prim a small smile, "That ought to do fo-"

An arrow entered through the side of his neck and Prim didn't even register that she had thrown her knife until Thresh's weight fell haphazardly on her and she caught sight of Glimmer's wide eyes as she looked from the knife buried in her chest to her. Two canons fired, and Prim was left one knife short as she came to terms with the fact that she had reacted and thrown her knife at Glimmer on pure instinct.

_Killer._

That was the first word to cross her mind as she stood, breathing heavily. Trembling hands rose to hold on to her friend's limp body. She gripped his arms which, toned as they were, had gone a little softer now.

"I'm sorry," said Prim, despite not knowing what she was apologizing for. Her hands moved up to his back and she used all her strength to slowly guide him to the ground. Tears have blurred her vision, but she did not stop as she moved to ensure that he was lying properly, as if he were only settling in to sleep and she were guiding him.

"I'm so sorry." She couldn't bear to look at his eyes. Brown and wide open, they had been guarded but  _alive_  only a second previous. Her tears fell on his bare chest, and she placed a hand above his no longer beating heart just as her other moved his eyelids shut.

"I'm so sorry." She croaked once again, her head resting on his chest and her hands curled into fists.

* * *

Words could not describe how disgusted he felt for leaving his best friend behind. And when the canon –  _Clove's canon_  – sounded, he had to stop and regain his composure. He placed a steadying hand against the trunk of a nearby tree. Not counting himself, five tributes were left. That meant five more people were hindering him from becoming the Victor that he knew he was.

He looked to the direction he was heading. It would take quite a while for him to arrive at the Cornucopia, and since he no longer has any supplies, he needed to conserve his energy. They promised food and water, which meant energy to kill his opponents. He needed to get there or at least find an alternate source of food and water.

Growing up in an environment when he could've had nearly everything he wanted, food was never scarce. It was something he was unaccustomed to, and he had no plans to get used to it. When he returned a Victor, he would eat as much as he wanted whenever he wanted just to forget that he had ever felt what true hunger and starvation was like.

He had been walking for a good mile and a half when two canons fired in quick succession. He wondered who it could've been, but could not find it in himself to care. He didn't think it would Prim. She was smart and quick for someone like her, and he wouldn't be surprised if in the end it would be him, her and Thresh.

Another mile and he finally arrived at the Cornucopia, upon catching sight of the various delicacies; he felt his mouth water and his stomach rumble. Like a man in a desert stumbling upon an oasis, he used his last bout of strength to get to the large structure to gorge on the food and eat like a king.

His body moved off of muscle memory, and he was surprised to find that he had just narrowly missed being killed with a knife.

_Clove?_

His eyes scoured the area for the blade's origin, and he found his blue eyes colliding with that of one Primrose Everdeen's. She was no longer pale, her skin having gained a natural tan. She was covered in a lot of dirt, and her cheeks had sunk into her face in such a way that highlighted her cheekbones but also showed how small she was. There was a green substance on her chin, but that was not what caused him to stare.

Her eyes were no longer the bright blue he remembered that they had once been. They had darkened and were full yet vacant at the same time. Red and puffy, he knew that she must've been crying, and from the way she sniffled, he guessed that she had only begun to stop. She seemed more vulnerable and guarded all at the same time, and he could remember only one time when he felt that way.

She had killed someone.

It was only then that he looked around properly.

A burly man lay in front of her, and in the distance, he could see the faint outline of a girl's figure.

He was not so dense as to think that she could've killed both of them, and so based off of what he could see, he inferred that she had been with the man when the woman ha killed him and she had retaliated and promptly lost her composure. He sheathed his sword and walked over to her despite the protest of his stomach, which only wished to be filled with food.

"Rose."

The way in which he had said her name had Prim watching his every move. From the way he had sheathed his sword to the way he began to walk towards her. There wasn't much change to his looks. His eyes were still as blue as ever; perhaps tainted with an emotion she could not quite point out. His hair had gotten a shade darker, and so had his skin. His facial features seemed more angular – more defined.

She looked back down at Thresh's dead figure and couldn't help but wince as her eyes landed on the arrow protruding from his neck. It seemed to have killed him instantly, and she could only assume – and hope – that such was the case, because she wouldn't have wanted him to suffer. In fact, she wished that suffering preceded none of the deaths in the games.

"C-cato." She said with a hiccup.

They hadn't seen each other in days, but the feeling in the pit of Cato's stomach whenever he saw his Rose hadn't changed. Like a man possessed, he grabbed her arms and pulled her to him, his lips finding hers in a searing kiss that conveyed just how much he had been deprived of her company. As much as he was unwilling to admit it, he had missed her, and now that he had found her, he wasn't about to let go.

It hadn't been a conscious decision, but by the time Prim realized she was kissing him back, she found that she was too gone to care. She poured into it the despair and sorrow she felt and the utter guilt that came with taking a life. When they parted, there was blood on their lips, and it took a moment to sink in that Cato's lip was bleeding.

He smiled despite the strain it gave his dry (and now, bleeding) lips. "You've gotten stronger, Rose." He teased, though the laugh that followed was as humorless as their situation. Despite herself, she blushed and murmured an apology, licking her teeth absently and finding that she wasn't as repulsed as she would have been a week ago at the metallic taste of blood.

"Why don't we get some food and leave?" Cato asked, looking to the Cornucopia, and Prim was more than grateful that he did not mention the two dead bodies so clearly visible. Her regard for him grew quite a bit, because he seemed to understand that she neither wanted nor needed to discuss the specifics of Thresh's and Glimmer's death.

She met his eyes and was suddenly drawn back to that time that they had been staring at each other as she laid trapped between him and the sofa. He had been such a different person then. She looked past him and that was when she realized he was alone.

_Where's Clove?_

So she finally understood his lack of prying. She would have thought that he would be taunting and teasing her about her first kill, but instead he had kept silent. She had mistaken it as understanding or sympathy; she knew then. Clove was dead and Cato was ignoring it just as much as she was trying to ignore and forget what had just occurred.

"Alright," said Prim, even though she already had two bags filled with supplies.

Her eyes widened. How could she have forgotten Peeta and Rue?! They were out there probably worried sick about her and Thresh while she was here lip locking with the enemy! Feeling appalled at herself, she knew that she had to leave and find them. But with her rotten sense of direction, she would most probably get lost.

How was she supposed to get back now?

Cato was completely unaware of Prim's dilemma as he took her hand in his in a completely unprecedented move, and led her to the table filled with various platters of food. She followed behind him in a daze, the bags Thresh had handed her earlier lay in a heap a few feet away from where she had once stood.

It felt completely and utterly surreal to have her hand in his, and he marveled at how they had remained soft and malleable despite the rough times and all the changes she must have gone through. He thought nothing of it, and when they arrived by the table, he found that there were different types of food upon it. He tugged Prim closer to his side.

"I have to go, Cato."

His head snapped to her so fast, Prim found it a miracle that she didn't hear a crack. "No." She winced; she shouldn't have expected anything else.

"Peeta and Rue are waiti-"

"THEN LET THEM WAIT." He snarled pulling her close and holding her by her arms, shaking her. "You're mine, Rose; you won't be getting rid of me that easily." The look in his eyes was panicked and glazed, almost like a rabid animal that would've scared her if Prim didn't understand what he was going through. But as it were, she did. She knew what it meant, because he may be unhinged and somewhat unnerving, but Cato was first and foremost, human.

_He didn't want to be alone._


	30. Disoriented and Reacquainted

Chapter Thirty – Disoriented and Reacquainted

* * *

She did not say another word as he let her go and proceeded to stuff his face with food. Prim had never seen him that way. Whenever they ate back at the Training Center, he had always been so calm and composed – save for the heated encounter with Peeta – but to see him then, he could've easily eaten  _her_. She winced at the thought. She looked around. She could make a run for it, she knew; but she also knew that he would've caught her with ease – especially with the way he was inhaling the food. His energy was bound to have returned.

She stepped closer to the table but farther from him. The food did look delicious, and she was really hungry. There were roasts of different animals, stews, fruits and more! Her stomach growled its appreciation of the sight. She was unaware she had reached for one until Cato spoke to her.

"Go ahead," grunted the teen. "You look like you need it more than I do, and that's saying something."

Her gaze moved from his food-smeared face to the bowl of stew in her hand. She looked into the contents, from the bits of vegetables visible to the creamy broth it was in. Not bothering with utensils, she raised the bowl to her lips and drank the soup. When meat of vegetables would hit her lips, she would part them and let them slide into her mouth directly from the bowl. It wasn't long before she'd finished two bowls of the delicious food.

In the back of her mind, she could just picture Effie Trinket criticizing her and telling her that civilized folk shouldn't eat in such a disgusting manner. The thought brought a small smile to her face, but it was quickly wiped off as she recalled her predicament. She had to get back to Peeta and Rue!

Watching her from the corner of his eye, Cato saw as she wolfed down her fair share of food. He hadn't been lying when he told her that she needed it more than he did. She'd lost a significant amount of weight, and though he wouldn't admit it, he wasn't all too keen on seeing her as skin and bones. He liked her as she used to be: soft yet firm, easy and comfortable to hold. When this was all over – and by that he meant when it was just the two of them – he would have her.

His need for her had never ceased, because he had to admit, it was no longer just some simple-minded want to possess her anymore. He needed her in his life, in his system even. He wasn't going to lie to himself. It was no longer purely physical. It was no longer just about the fact that she looked so innocent and pure and he wanted to taint it, to corrupt her. It was about him finding her to be the center of his attention when he was left alone with his thoughts. He cared for her, he supposed, in a way unlike he cared for Clove.

She was different, he often mused, remembering his and Clove's conversation's regarding that particular thought. She was different; he was different, and what they had was different. Everything was different, now more so than ever.

"Cato?" Prim called out, unsure. He'd been staring at her for a while, but upon closer inspection, she found that he was looking but not really seeing. If she were correct, then he'd been deep in his thoughts and had barely even noticed her. She took a furtive step closer to him and raised a hand to his face carefully. Her fingertips had just brushed his cheek when his hand wrapped around her wrist.

Frozen in her spot, she dared to raise her gaze to meet his eyes. She was surprised to find that they had darkened.

Cato smirked down at her, feeling something in his gut twist as he took her in. He tugged at her wrist and she moved closer to him, barely leaving any space between their bodies. "Don't start anything you can't finish, Rose." He replied, making her blush as her eyes widened in recognition. She hadn't meant to do anything other than to wipe away some of the sauce smeared on his face!

She was saved from having to do or say anything as Claude Templesmith's voice rang throughout the arena.

" _In a wonderful turn of events, the game makers have decided that a change of rules are in order."_  Cato's grip on Prim tightened considerably, though it did not faze the younger girl as she was too focused on listening to what the announcement was.  _"As opposed to having one winner for the seventy-fourth Hunger Games, two tributes of any gender from any district shall be crowned the victors of this year's Hunger Games should they be the two remaining tributes."_

He repeated the announcement twice more until Cato was sure that he, Prim, Mellark, and that little girl from 11 had it memorized. Cato didn't think twice about who the two remaining tributes would be. He looked at the girl before him, and couldn't help but think of Clove, sending her a mental sign of gratitude. He wouldn't have been too sure about his decision if she were still around. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he let go of Rose just long enough to leave no space between them as his arms encircled her.

"C-cato!" Prim squeaked as she was crushed to the older boy's body. Two tributes could get out. What could Cato be thinking? Was he considering that  _they_  would be the Victors? She took a shaky breath in as she wrapped her arms around Cato. She was quite unsure about killing off her two friends, and as she stood in the arms of a Career with her arms around him, she contemplated killing him and then killing herself off just to ensure that no harm would fall on her friends. But there was a feeling in her heart that told her not to push through with it.

She swallowed thickly. "I still need to get back to Peeta and Rue, Cato," said the young girl, though neither her nor Cato made a move to part. Truth be told, Cato was rather comfortable with their position; Prim would be lying if she said that she didn't feel the least bit safe in his arms, which should've been preposterous considering he had probably been the reason for most of the cannons that she'd heard fired.

* * *

Just after Thresh and Prim disappeared into the distance, a canon fired, unnerving Peeta and Rue. Surely it wasn't either of their friends?

Two consecutive canons being fired was not the best thing to hear when one was waiting for two friends of theirs to return with supplies. Peeta and Rue looked to each other when the canons fired. They were thinking the same thing. They were both hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. Eyes glazed with tears, Peeta moved to take Rue's hand in his.

"That wasn't for them." He whispered, voice hoarse because of misuse and dehydration. "Prim and Thresh are fine." At this, neither was quite sure who Peeta was reassuring. "They'll be back, you'll see." Because in that moment, he wasn't entirely positive about his words, and with a squeeze of Rue's hand, they dozed off.

Two hours later found Peeta and Rue debating about whether or not to go after Prim and Thresh.

"We don't know which route they took," pointed Rue out.

"But what if they went in a different direction to avoid whoever's left?" Peeta voiced, being careful not to mention that the only other tribute that could possibly pose a true threat to them would be Cato.

Neither suggested the possibility that Prim and Thresh could be dead, wanting to think positively. Both understood that it was a possibility, but neither believed that is could be reality. To be alive while their friends were dead just wasn't something that seemed possible.

"It's better than staying here." Peeta added after a beat. "Actually, anything's better than staying here."

Rue looked to the ground before meeting her companion's gaze. "Alright. Let's go."

* * *

The pictures shown after the sun had set only served to solidify what Cato and Prim already knew, and what Peeta and Rue had feared. They were the only four left, and only two can be given the chance and honor of getting out of there.

After stocking up on food, Cato and Prim were set on leaving the Cornucopia, despite it being nighttime.

Looking in the distance, Prim could barely see the outline of Thresh's and Glimmer's corpses with the help of the moonlight. She swallowed thickly, feeling herself tear up once more. Her fists clenched and she looked away, a tear escaping her eye. She and Cato should leave, she knew, because their bodies wouldn't be taken as long as she and Cato were around.

"You did what you had to do." Cato placed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "We all do what we have to."

And in that moment, they truly did understand each other.

They went into the Hunger Games for different reasons, but it didn't change the fact that neither of them was truly happy with the decisions they've made. They both had a life out of the arena, but they also didn't quite understand how anyone could go back and act as if The Hunger Games was nothing. Most of all though, they were no longer living for themselves; Prim was alive for Katniss, while Cato was alive for his district and perhaps even the girl standing with him right then.

No words were spoken as they began to leave the Cornucopia.

Among the supplies were flashlights, and they each had one in their hand as they began their trek away. Neither knew exactly where they were going. Prim, clueless with the direction in which Rue and Peeta were, was just praying that Cato didn't stumble upon her friends first, or that if he did, that he didn't kill them on sight.

Her thoughts brought into light their predicament. She wouldn't be able to bear it if she lived while Peeta and Rue died. Knowing Cato, he would probably want her friends dead. Peeta, on the other hand, would probably prefer if she and Rue stayed alive. And Rue… Rue seemed to believe that she and Peeta were the people to stay alive. She closed her eyes and furrowed her brows, getting a headache.

Cato watched her from the corner of his eye, unsure of what to do. He could feel that something's changed between him and his Rose, but he couldn't quite place what it was. That being said, he wasn't exactly a big fan of the silence between them, which was a big difference from before.

"I  _will_  kill them, Rose." He broke the silence quite effectively, seeing as Prim's eyes widened for a second, before she schooled her expression into a blank one that both annoyed and concerned him. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, waving his blade to and fro with one hand, while the other held a flashlight.

Her downcast eyes accompanied her deep breathing. This was her chance. Cato's guard seemed to be down and he seemed to be arrogant enough to simply play with his weapon. If she focused, aimed, and had a bit of luck, she could strike his hand so that he would let go of his sword. That's when she could pounce. She could kill Cato and then there would only be three of them left.

Prim's fists clenched and she could feel her hands tremble as a vision of Glimmer looking at her with a knife protruding from her chest flashed through her mind. She looked down at her hands, finding that she could no longer stop them from shaking. Had she really done that? Had she really killed Glimmer? It hadn't even occurred to her that she had fallen to her knees until she felt herself being pulled into someone's arms.

The moment she began to fall, Cato dropped his sword and flashlight and moved to catch her. When she only dropped to her knees, however, he sighed and picked up his weapon before kneeling down in front of her and watching her close in on herself and sob. He slowly pulled her to him, being careful not to harm her with his sword. He offered no other comfort than his embrace.

He had a fairly good idea as to why she was crying. She was either still hung up on Thresh's death, felt guilty about Glimmer's death, or was afraid for her own life. He cradled her head with her free hand and breathed in and out slowly and deeply. He kept an eye out for trouble, knowing that anything could happen as long as they were still in the arena.

It was in that position that Rue and Peeta stumbled upon them.

"Prim!" Rue called out, voice hoarse, as she caught sight of her friend's blonde hair shining against the light of Cato's fallen flashlight. He looked to their direction, immediately catching sight of the dark-skinned girl, but quickly locking eyes with her blonde and blue-eyed male companion. His eyes narrowed at him.

He felt Prim shift and he loosened his hold on her so that she could sit up on her own. She used the back of her hands to wipe at her face before she turned to face her friends.

"Rue!" She exclaimed, scrambling to her feet and running to them.


	31. Death and Sobriety

Chapter Thirty-One – Death and Sobriety

* * *

Rue and Peeta gorged themselves in the food and drinks that Prim had gotten them, and the girl from District 12 smiled as she watched her friends eat. She had calmed down and was content with just observing them. It wasn't right, she knew, to keep her feelings locked up, but she also understood that there wasn't really much to say. Peeta and Rue wouldn't understand. They hadn't killed, and they hadn't watched someone be killed. They hadn't felt someone lose their life as they held that person. But most of all, Prim didn't want to burden them. She knew that they were there for her should she need them, but they had enough problems on their mind. There was no use in adding her own silly musings to it.

A fire to keep them warm had been lit, and Cato took his seat across Rose's friends, eyes not once straying from them. Why hadn't he killed them yet? His brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, and arms crossed over his chest, he couldn't shake off the doubt in his mind.

What was wrong with him?

His eyes slid over to the blonde situated between Mellark and Rue. He watched as she smiled and watched them eat. She talked, and the trio whispered to and fro amongst themselves as if their friend hadn't just died and there wasn't someone on the other side of the fire.

If Clove were there, she would've known how to incorporate herself into their little group, that was for sure, Cato thought to himself. The thought of his best friend brought a twinge of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He forced his expression not to change. She had asked to be left behind. Clove's death wasn't on his hands. It had been her choice and her own reasoning that got her killed. Thinking brought into light where Cato stood now.

They were at a standstill.

Two Victors would be crowned, but there was four of them, and only one was unopposed to actually killing the two that he wanted least. Peeta's gaze moved from Cato to Prim. Without a doubt in his mind, he knew that Cato would keep Katniss' sister alive. His eyes roamed over to stop at the sight of Rue downing a tin of soup.

She deserved to live.

Peeta was no fighter. He had no affinity for any weapon, nor did he see himself killing anyone any time soon. However, that didn't change the fact that among the four of them, Prim and Rue deserved to live the most. They were so young and still had so much to live for.

Finishing the last bit of soup, Rue burped, much to the amusement of Prim and Peeta. She was by no means gullible. She understood the implications of there only being four of them in the game. With the change of rules, it meant that only two could survive. She understood that Cato would want Prim alive, and Peeta would probably want her and Prim to live, but Rue? She wanted to live and go home to her mom and dad. She wanted to go back to the fields and watch over the people and whistle like she used to always do. Most of all, she wanted to go see her aunt and uncle – Thresh's parents – and tell them how wonderful Thresh was and how he had done everything to protect her, even before the games. Despite her wishes though, Rue knew that the chances of her living until the end was little to none.

"We should get some sleep." Cato stood, "I'll stand guard to make sure nothing jumps up and surprises us." He yawned, moving to grab his sword and a flashlight.

Quick to follow, Prim intervened, "I'll do it!"

"What?" Peeta asked, confused. He knew the implications of Cato standing guard while they slept. It would be the perfect opportunity to kill him and Rue, so what was Prim thinking? Had she caught on to that possibility? Did  _she_  have a strategy in mind? Cato kept his eyes on Prim, eyes narrowed.

"Y-you're all tired, and I'm still wide aw-wake." She explained, a light blush creeping on to her cheeks, as she felt flustered at the thought of sleeping. She had a feeling that dozing off wouldn't provide the same escape it used to.

His brows furrowed, but Cato said nothing as he sat back down and watched his Rose take hold of two knives. Rue and Peeta did not trust Cato, but they did trust Prim. After all, if it hadn't been for her, they wouldn't have had food in their stomachs.

It wasn't long before Cato, Peeta, and Rue had fallen asleep, with Rue resting her head on Peeta's chest and Peeta wrapping an arm around the little girl. Cato stayed sitting with his back against a tree, and his sword remained in his loose grip even as he slept.

With her back to them, Prim was unable to notice Rue slowly creep away after an hour under her watch.

As it turned out, eating and drinking brought into light a tiny problem for Rue, she needed to heed the call of nature, as it were. She carefully lifted Peeta's arm so that she could slip away, and stretched. She took one look at Prim's back, illuminated by the campfire, at Cato's sleeping form, and at Peeta's calm face, before silently slipping away.

She looked for a dark and somewhat far crevice so that she could go about her business, still very much half-asleep after days of having to be on guard and not having enough to eat. She had been just about to pull down her pants when she heard the rustling of leaves. She gasped and took an involuntary step back.

"Who's there?" She called out, eyes scanning her surroundings. The growl she heard in reply was most definitely an unwelcome response. She gasped as a pair of glowing eyes came into view. "P-peeta?" She choked out. Under the moonlight, the silhouette of a dog-like creature came into view. "PRIM!" She shrieked, when the creature pounced.

The sound of Rue's scream rang in Prim's ears as she made a mad dash towards its origin. Her breathing grew labored as she stepped upon dead leaves, broken twigs, and fallen branches in her rush to get to her friend. Her knife in one hand and a flashlight in another, Prim reached the clearing just as the mutt tore into Rue's shoulder. She gasped and reacted without much thought, throwing her knife at her target and then running to push it off of the crying and squirming girl she considered her friend.

"Rue," cried Prim, Shoving the mutt off of Rue.

Cato and Peeta woke up immediately upon hearing Rue's scream, and both had headed straight for the clearing where the two girls were. Arriving there first, Cato saw the mutt squirm and didn't hesitate in using his sword to chop its head clean off. Peeta slowed down as he took note of Rue on the ground, and Prim crying over her. Cato's blood-covered sword and the creature lying a few feet away and its head even farther saw to it that Peeta knew and understood exactly what had happened.

Moving to cradle Rue's head properly, Prim couldn't stop the onslaught of tears.

Rue smiled up at her friend, "Thank you." She reached up to touch the Mockingjay pin fastened on Prim's garb. "Peeta was right."  _She really doesn't know the effect she can have._  Rue inhaled slowly, and Prim watched as the light left her eyes.

The sun was just beginning to rise as the sound of a canon firing was heard.

Rue's canon.

Only three tributes were left in the 74th Hunger Games.


	32. Interlude: Mayhem and Misdemeanor

Chapter Thirty-Two – An Interlude: Mayhem and Misdemeanor

* * *

The residents of the Training Center's twelfth floor were celebrating, and yet Haymitch stood to the side, a wineglass filled with soda in his hand. He was just about to leave the room when Effie's hand on his arm stopped him. He looked at her and raised a brow, looking over her orange ensemble. Really, the things that The Capitol came up with were  _fascinating_.

"Is that soda in your glass?" The woman asked, surprise evident. "I'd have thought you'd be drinking more now that Peeta and Prim have reached the final three!" She offered him her own drink, but he shook his head, taking a swig of his own beverage. He tore his gaze away from her, annoyed at her ignorance. Of course, what could he have expected from a Capitol-born-and-bred woman? She probably thought everything was sunshine and roses from then on.

"You know as well as I do that these games are unpredictable. Who's to say that Cato kid wouldn't go crazy and kill them?" He noticed her wince, but did not react as he continued, "There is nothing worth celebrating right now, as far as I'm concerned."

Feeling chastised, Effie looked to their companions in the room, who had been oblivious to Haymitch's little rant. There was an unsettled feeling settled in their stomach.

* * *

Between Thresh's death and Rue's unprecedented memorial, the residents of District Eleven had begun to grow restless.

Everyone had always been aware of how heartless the Hunger Games was. It was nothing new to find that one of their own had gotten hurt, but it was definitely different to find that other tributes were taking an interest in Rue and Thresh. Both tributes of District 12 seemed to have struck up an alliance – or perhaps even some sort of friendship – with them, and to find that even amidst such horrible circumstances they still had the heart to make friends brought such warmth to the people that they couldn't even begin to describe how they felt.

Of course there were those that doubted Prim and Peeta's motives, but upon watching and hearing Prim's plea to help Rue, District 11 began to root for Panem's Fire Angel as much as – if not more than – their tributes. How could such a sweet little angel have been dealt with such a tragic hand?

Rue and Thresh's family especially, were grateful to Peeta Mellark and especially Primrose Everdeen for helping them out, even if only to prolong their life. The fact that they had had such pure-hearted people in their lives for even mere moments may not have made up for the fact that they were still too young to have to be forced into such brutal games, but it did make it somewhat better in their eyes.

 _At least they hadn't died alone,_  some would think, but others weren't so passive about the whole ordeal. Others thought it wrong; immoral, even. They thought that those kids didn't have to die – that Rue (and every other child entered into the games) could (and should) have lived a normal life. Why did they have to pay the price for something their forefathers did? They hadn't rebelled. They had done everything according to the Capitol's wishes.

The rebellion was no more!

They shouldn't have to endure such barbaric displays anymore!

Everyone in the square watched as Prim cried over Thresh.

They saw her break down.

And then they watched Rue's death.

The silence was deafening as it began to sink in that District Eleven's own angel had died.

 _Killed at the hands of the Capitol_ , that's how they saw it, for if it hadn't been for the mutation that had jumped her, she would surely be alive.

They had thought that that was it. The screen had gone black and they were simply waiting for whatever comments Ceasar may have, but then there was a bit of static and then the distinct figure of Cato came into view. They watched with bated breath as he led Prim and Peeta to a clearing. Watching the events unfold, there were mixed reactions among the people. Tears were shed, shouts were heard, and then a rather different move altogether emerged.

After witnessing Prim, Peeta, and Cato's makeshift funeral, a man – perhaps no older than forty – charged for the nearest Peacekeeper stationed to watch over them. Before long, more had joined him. It wasn't just men too. Women, and even some children, raced towards the white-clad people of the Capitol. They were hurting and wanted revenge.

These were not their people. They were just tasked to watch over them by the government who only wanted to keep them around for the Capitol's benefit. It was about time they fought back. It was about time the District belonged to their citizens.

It was about time for another rebellion.

Panem's Fire Angel truly did not know the effect she can have.

* * *

News of the event in District 11 went straight to President Snow, who was not pleased. At all. With a practiced and perfected air of calm, he entered Seneca Crane's office.

"Good morning, President Snow!" The Head Gamemaker greeted, standing up.

The older of the two men smiled, "Might I tell you something, Seneca?" Without bothering to ask for a reply, Snow began to circle the room. "The Hunger Games is about fear. It is about reminding everyone of who is in charge. What you're doing is  _failing_  at the objective. Instead you've given them  _hope_. And that, my dear, is the only thing stronger than fear."

Confused, Seneca watched as President Snow turned towards the door. Just as he was about to leave however, he turned to look at Seneca over his shoulder.

"Primrose Everdeen should  _not_  be the Victor."


	33. Hysteria and Confusion

Chapter Thirty-Three – Hysteria and Confusion

* * *

"It's not fair," sobbed Prim.

Peeta walked over to Prim and placed an arm around her shoulders. She neither leaned into him or rejected his touch, and kept on saying how unfair the situation was. No words could describe how horrible Peeta felt, not just at seeing Rue die, but at not being able to comfort Prim as well. He stroked her back soothingly, but knew not how to better accommodate her.

"Crying won't bring her back."

Peeta looked up to glare at Cato. Couldn't he be more insensitive? He watched as Cato bent down and scooped Rue into his arms.

"What do you think you're doing?" Peeta snarled, holding Prim closer to him, feeling quite protective. Without answering him, Cato left them, taking Rue's body with him. "We should follow him," whispered Peeta to Prim, pulling her up as he stood, and holding her steady as they moved to follow the lone District Two tribute.

It felt like they had been walking for hours to Peeta, who hadn't let go of Prim their entire trek, but in reality, it had barely taken them ten minutes.

They arrived in a clearing filled with flowers. Overhanging branches from the surrounding trees allowed just a bit of light to shine through, but did not let them feel the heat of sunlight in its entirety.

"I didn't think you would want to leave her near the thing that killed her." Cato said simply after setting Rue down in the middle of the clearing.

Prim pulled away from Peeta and busied herself with picking flowers. Following her lead, Peeta did the same, leaving Cato to stand by the body and observe. He watched as Prim knelt by the body and arranged the flowers around her dead friend. Peeta came up and placed a bouquet of flowers in Rue's hands. Prim leaned closed and hugged Rue one last time before standing up, leaving Peeta to have his final moment with Rue.

Peeta closed his eyes, "I'm sorry."  _You should have lived_. He kissed Rue's brow and stood as well.

With them standing on either side of Rue, Peeta and Prim met each other's eyes, noting how far they've come from what they used to be – before the games. Prim lifted her left hand and folded her fingers in the familiar gesture she had received upon standing before District Twelve. She raised her middle three fingers to her lips, placed a kiss on the tips and raised her hand, with Peeta following right behind her.

Cato watched them, bewildered. What was going on? He looked between Mellark and Prim. Two Victors shall be declared. Who would it be?

Without another word, Prim turned and left the two males. She needed to get out of there.

"Prim!" Peeta wanted to go after her, but Cato was quick to put a stop to him. He watched as the Career blocked his path and effectively cut his view of Prim, before meeting Cato's gaze.

"She needs that." He explained, arms crossed. Cato looked at the final obstacle to him becoming Victor. If he killed him, then he and Prim would be left, and they would be the Victors. Observing Peeta Mellark, Cato is reminded of one blaring fact: he had left his sword in the other clearing, with the animal that had killed Rue.

There was nothing else to think about, Peeta had a bit of an idea what could be going through his opponent's mind. With the three of them left, there's no doubt that the end was near. And it wasn't just the games, either. Being alone with Cato gave Peeta the chance that he needed. If he took Cato out, he and Prim could go home. Could he really do it though? Cato was a Career. He'd probably been trained to kill all his life. What chance could he, the son of a baker, possibly have in a hand-to-hand combat against someone like that?

He watched Cato leave, going back in the direction where they had left their stuff. Peeta stood to follow, not knowing where else to go. Sparing Rue's body one last glance, he walked on.

"I'm surprised you haven't tried to kill me yet." Cato wondered aloud. "Could it be because you  _want_  to die?"

Peeta shrugged, even though Cato couldn't see him, seeing as the District Two tribute was a few steps ahead of him. He frowned at the question, but couldn't find it in him to refute Cato's words. Did he  _want_  to die? He swallowed thickly. Suicidal thoughts in a game that promoted survival of the fittest…  _how ironic_ , he couldn't help but think to himself as he kicked a rock.

"If you kill me, what happens to Prim?" Peeta questioned, after having caught up to Cato.

Raising a brow, Cato sent him a sideways glance. "What do you think would happen?"

Prim lives, no doubt. The rules were clear; any two tributes, regardless of district or gender, could win the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. Peeta's death would ensure Prim's existence, but who's to say that Cato wouldn't go behind the rules and what the glory for himself? Who would stop him from hurting – no,  _killing_  – Prim if Peeta died?

* * *

_So much death…_

Prim inhaled and exhaled slowly and deeply. There had been so much death in the past day than she was accustomed to. Thresh, Glimmer, and now Rue; who would be next?

There were three of them left, and now more than ever, Prim was reminded of the note that Haymitch had sent with the ointment for Rue's burn.  _Choose one._ Had he known that it would come to this? Had Haymitch, by some incredible stroke of ingenuity, figured out that her life really would depend on whom she chose?

Cato or Peeta.

Peeta or Cato.

To choose one would mean to lose the other, and really, in a game like this, she should be more worried for her own survival than for others! It wasn't even that she was selfless, but she didn't think she could ever live with the guilt of having made a decision that decided the outcome of another person's life – of having played God! She couldn't find it in herself to not think about Thresh, Rue, or Glimmer's death; the last one especially because she had been the direct cause of it. Frustrated (thought at whom or what, Prim wasn't too sure of), Prim raised her clenched fist and punched the tree she'd stopped in front of. She didn't want either of them to die. She never wanted anyone to die! Not Glimmer, Rue, Thresh, or any of the other tributes.

"Why me?" Tears filled her eyes as she delivered another punch to the tree with her other hand. The pain that shot through her hand was nothing compared to the ache in her chest at having survived for as long as she did. How is it that she was still alive when there had been so many more fitting people before her that should have lived? It hadn't occurred to her that she'd kept punching the tree or that her knuckles had begun to bleed until much later, when she was no longer crying.

Exhausted, Prim slumped forward and held on to the tree's trunk for support. Her arms were shaking, and her knees buckled as she struggled to keep herself up.

So absorbed in her own misery, Prim was unaware of the crackling of leaves behind her.

Eyes that looked eerily similar to that of Clove's watched Prim as she broke down. The creature with the said eyes blinked once, twice, before its companions began to growl. They were like a cross between that of an ape and a wolf, each having different colored fur, and facial features similar to that of an ape-man cross.

"ROSE!" Cato yelled as he saw the beasts behind his girl. This earned not only his intended's attention, but those of the beast as well. Without a second thought, he charged for the beast that had lunged at Prim, who had at least been quick enough to roll over and dodge.

Peeta, who had been walking a few steps behind the Career, immediately called out to Prim, "RUN, PRIM! HEAD FOR THE CORNUCOPIA." Barely registering the words, Prim ran and four huge beasts ran after her, leaving Cato and Peeta in the company of eight.

Heart pounding, covered in sweat and dirt, Prim reached the clearing where the Cornucopia was located with just a few feet between her and the four mutts – because what else could they be? – she was running away from. She ran for the huge structure that was the Cornucopia and she grabbed for the first thing she could get her hands on, which just so happened to be a part of the said structure itself. She pulled herself up. A glance down found that the four mutts had reached the Cornucopia, making her gasp. With the adrenaline pumping in her veins, Prim used her foot against the surface of the cornucopia and pulled herself to stand atop it.

Tired, but knowing that she had to get rid of these mutts if Peeta and Cato were to follow, she took a knife out of her makeshift knife-holster-belt. Prim looked at the mutts, took a deep breath in as she raised her arm for the throw, and then exhaled as she released her weapon.

One down, three more to go.

She let her fingers graze the tips of the handles of her knives. Her eyes widened at the realization that she only had two knives left.

* * *

"GO!" Peeta roared at Cato. There was no way they were both going to survive this.

Cato's eyes widened as he killed another monster with his sword. It was Peeta who had yelled, and the meaning behind it was clear. He was sacrificing himself. For him… No.  _For Prim_.

There were four beasts left, and Peeta, his own sword in hand, was fighting off two with his back against a tree. The other two were inching closer and closer to Cato, and he found himself remembering a scene from a few days back. The sense of déjà vu was horrifying. In a game like this, who would've thought that something could happen so similarly but to two different people?

This was almost exactly how he and Clove separated.

"CATO, GO! GET TO THE CORNUCOPIA AND HELP PRIM. I'LL KEEP THEM HERE," Peeta yelled, voice cracking at the strain. "GO! CATO, JUST LISTEN TO M-"

Part of him wanted nothing more than to listen. He wanted to get to Prim and hold her and get out of this godforsaken arena and just never let her go, but he knew that Prim – sweet and naïve little Primrose Everdeen – loved the baker's son, Peeta Mellark. Maybe neither of them knew it, but Cato was sure of it in the very same way he was sure that he wouldn't be able to live in a world where he had Prim but she longed for someone else.

_SLASH!_

Off one of the mutt's head went as Cato killed another, leaving only three of them.

"I'm not going anywhere,  _boy_." Cato hissed, daring to move closer to the other beast that looked eerily familiar. He met its gaze head on and was surprised to be reminded of Clove's warm brown eyes. For a second, he almost dropped his sword. "C-clove?"

The beast stopped advancing on him for a moment, as if recognizing the name. But then it crouched down and lunged at him, only to have a knife go through it courtesy of Peeta. Cato hadn't even realized that he'd fallen on his butt until Peeta offered him a hand to help him up. Ignoring it, he stood up and dusted himself off. Without another word, he headed straight in the direction of the Cornucopia.

"Hey," Peeta called out, jogging to keep up despite the pain flaring up in his side. He looked down and found a nasty gash on the right side of his abdomen. Wincing, he continued on, "Why didn't you leave?" When he didn't get a reply, he asked again, "Why didn't you go to Prim?"

Cato stopped, glaring at him. "She wants you." He snarled. "It's always been you. Peeta Fucking Mellark, the boy she couldn't ever live without because you're a friend from her district." He let out a frustrated sigh and grabbed Peeta by the collar of his shirt. "Now let's go and not keep Rose waiting."

Peeta's eyes widened. Was Cato blind? Did he not see the difference in which Prim treated them?

* * *

With one mutt left, Prim had to look for another weapon she could use. Being atop the Cornucopia, there wasn't really much she could get her hands on, unless…

Something shining caught her eye. Her brows furrowed, as she moved closer to it, which was more difficult than anticipated because of the Cornucopia's structure. Upon reaching it, she found that it was a dagger. Holding it in her hand, she found that it weighed just right and would probably work as well (if not better) than the knives she had.

Standing on the edge, she looked for the last mutt and found it about thirty feet away. She aimed the dagger, inhaled, and then let it go with a slow exhale.

Prim's eyes widened as it finally sunk in that she had hit the target despite it being so far away from her.

Had she done that?

Looking over the edge, she saw the three lifeless bodies of the mutts.

Yes, yes she had.

With a shaky breath, Prim slowly sat down, knees buckling just as her butt touched the surface.

In the distance, she could see two figures emerging.

She smiled.

They were alive.

…

And so were nine other mutts.

"RUN!" Prim yelled as she saw the ugly beasts begin to creep up on her friends.

Without waiting for another command, Peeta and Cato ran for their lives. Nine mutts on their tail, they knew their only chance of survival would be to join Prim atop the Cornucopia. They reached the huge building just as one of the beasts made a move to pounce on them. Cato quickly pulled Peeta out of the way, thereby saving his life once more.

Falling to her knees, Prim looked from one boy to the other.

"Prim!" Peeta's panicked voice reached her ears as she watched him jump and grab on to a ledge. She offered her hand, but was too short to reach Peeta's outstretched one.

Frantic, Prim looked for ways she could help them. She looked around and then at herself. She still had the rope that she had weaved into a makeshift belt and sheath! With shaking hands, Prim undid the knot and unraveled it to its full length. It was then that she stood to make the biggest decision of her life.

She turned to Cato, who was having a difficult time pulling himself up, and was using all his upper body strength to make sure that his legs wouldn't be reached by the bloodthirsty mutts.

And then there was Peeta who had more energy than Cato because of the food he had consumed alongside Rue earlier. He was using his boot-clad feet to propel him upwards, but he seemed to be slipping.

Both needed her help.

* * *

"W-why would you do that?" He asked, voice a mere whisper. "Why would you save  _me_?"

Prim smiled, eyes filled with melancholy at their predicament. She placed a hand on his face, cupping his cheek, before leaning in to place a kiss on his forehead. Perhaps she would forever wonder if she had made the right choice, or maybe she'd look back and not regret a single thing. Either way, in that moment, Prim felt more at peace than she had ever felt throughout her time in the games. The 74th Annual Hunger Games may have been terrible; it may have caused the deaths of people she'd considered friends, but it also brought her to him. And for that, she'd forever be grateful.

"Because it's you," replied Prim. "It'll always be you."


	34. Surprised and Surrendered

Chapter Thirty-Four – Surprised and Surrendered

* * *

With the exhaustion crashing upon them, Prim laid her head on his chest as she felt her eyelids grow heavier. It wasn't long before they both fell asleep, with his arms around her and one of hers laying across his torso. As they slept, their minds replayed just what had occurred minutes previous. It wasn't something they would be forgetting anytime soon, that was for sure. Prim believed it wasn't something she would forget. Ever.

_She turned to Cato, who was having a difficult time pulling himself up, and was using all his upper body strength to make sure that his legs wouldn't be reached by the bloodthirsty mutts._

_And then there was Peeta who had more energy than Cato because of the food he had consumed alongside Rue earlier. He was using his boot-clad feet to propel him upwards, but he seemed to be slipping._

_Both needed her help._

_But she could only save one._

_Unshed tears blurred her vision as she watched Peeta struggle. Without even thinking about it, Prim knew whom she was going to save. She spared Cato a glance, her tears falling, before leaning over and offering Peeta her hand, the rope she now had bridging the gap that had once been too far for her to reach._

_Peeta looked up at her, surprised at her actions, before turning to Cato. He met the other tribute's gaze and could see the pain and hurt in his eyes. Looking back up at Prim, he shook his head. He knew that it wasn't him. He wasn't the person she truly wanted to save, and yet there she was, offering him her rope – his very own literal lifeline. And yet he couldn't take it, simply because it wasn't really meant for him._

" _Don't lie to yourself, Prim." He told her, using the last of his strength to keep his leg away from the mutts. "I think we owe the other enough to be honest to each other, don't we?" He could see the realization set in her tear-filled bright blue eyes. Why was he doing this? She had already chosen him! Her eyes flickered over to Cato subconsciously before looking back at the boy with the bread._

" _P-peeta…"_

" _Go on, Prim." He replied, wishing he could look away but finding that he couldn't. He was going to die, and he wanted the last thing he saw to be Prim. It was funny how he found himself thinking about his favorite color. Orange. Like the sunset. And Prim was very much the opposite of it. Primrose Everdeen was like the sunrise. She was a breath of fresh air and a sign that things and people could start anew. He watched as she shakily stood._

" _I love you, Peeta Mellark." Prim stated, before rushing to aid Cato._

_Peeta smiled. "I love you too, Prim." He breathed, before letting go._

_He should've known. Cato had been right all along. She did need Mellark. She needed Peeta more than she would ever need Cato. He told himself that he should look away; that he shouldn't torment himself any further and just let go and stop fighting right now, because it was clear who she had chosen. It was stupid, he kept telling himself as he felt the back of his eyes burn. He shouldn't be crying because of this…because of some little girl choosing someone else over him. How shallow could he be?_

" _Cato!"_

_Cato's head snapped up and he was beyond surprised as he met the gaze of a crying Primrose Everdeen. What the fuck was she doing? He looked at the rope she was offering, and accepted it without a second thought. Just as he hoisted himself up with help form Prim and a kick to the side of the Cornucopia._

_He turned to where Peeta had been, unsurprised to find that he was no longer there. He turned to look down at where the mutts that had been after him were, but found that they were now surrounding the pack that was fighting for and over Peeta's body._

_He stumbled a bit as he fought to stand near the edge. He raised his sword and aimed before throwing it. Peeta didn't need prolonged suffering. It was time to rest. It was time Peeta went to sleep._

_A canon sounded._

_Peeta was dead._

_Panting, he fell on his ass, with Prim coming to kneel by his side._

* * *

They woke up hours later, still in the same position. The sun was beginning its descent when Cato's eyes fluttered open. The first thing that registered in his mind was that he was alive. He was alive! His Rose had picked him and had foregone saving Mellark in favor of saving him.  _Him_! He looked down and found Prim sleeping soundly with her head resting on his chest, just above his heart, and couldn't help the small smile that bloomed on his lips.

His heartbeat rang in Prim's ears, and she found herself waking up to its steady beat. Looking up to meet his gaze, she sent him a small smile. His arms tightened around her, and she scooted close to give him a hug. She felt him shift and she sat up so that he could too. Before long, they got off of the Cornucopia and neither was surprised that Peeta's body was no longer there.

The silence in the entire arena was deafening. Even more so than the canons that fired when a tribute died. Prim and Cato hated every second of it.

What were they still doing here?

This was it.

It was now just the two of them.

They had won!

So why hasn't the trumpet sounded yet?

Where was the sound of Panem's Anthem?

Where was Seneca Crane's voice congratulating them?

What were they missing?

As if on cue, the aforementioned Gamemaker's voice boomed throughout the arena.

"Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rulebook has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."

Prim stared at Cato, but he wouldn't look at her. His eyes trained on anything but the blonde beside him. He stood up and stumbled, falling to his knees. Sharp pain shot through him from his leg, and he looked down to find a huge gash that ran from his knee until about two inches above his ankle. His eyes widened. He must have gotten it while hanging by the Cornucopia. Prim's gasp let him know that she had come to the same discovery as he had. He refused to meet her gaze.

He felt blood trickle down from his wound.

"Cato, your leg…"

He once read that anyone could bleed to death so long as the wound didn't close or clot. Cato knew, without having to look back at Prim, that he had made the decision for longer than he had even thought about it. He wasn't going to win this Hunger Games. He was going to die so this girl he barely even knew would be able to live the life she deserved. But then again, Cato allowed a small smile to grace his face, it didn't feel as if he barely knew her at all. All along, it felt as if a part of him had known her – or about her – all his life. And yes, he couldn't understand it, but he also didn't question it.

She was the one light in his life now.

And in that moment, when they both knew that neither could leave while the other's heart was still beating, he'd chosen for the both of them.

Prim wasn't going to let him do it. For all of Cato's faults and weaknesses, Prim knew that deep inside lurked someone with pure intentions. It was a very big character fault of hers, Katniss would often point out, how she cared so much for others even if they didn't return it, or how she could look into the most sinful person and still find the good in them. She stood up as well, watching her fellow tribute's every move. He was going to let himself die; she just knew it.

He wouldn't succeed though – not if she had anything to say about it.

"Kill me so we can be done with this." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Take your sword and drive it through me."

His eyes, the darkest shade of blue she'd ever seen them, hardened at her words as he turned to face her. His entire body was tense and his jaw and fists clenched at her taunts.

"Come on," Prim took a step closer to him so there was barely a foot between them. "Kill me, Cato."

He kissed her.

A hand snaked around her waist while the other cupped her face and angled her head to have better access. He kissed her as if her were a man in the desert and she were an oasis. He kissed her and tried to let her feel even just half of what he was feeling. He was anxious, hurt, angry, disappointed, and so much more.

And she kissed him back.

She was doomed. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she returned his kiss. She had fallen into the deep end – perhaps with, and for – the man she was kissing. She was very much afraid. How were they going to get out of this? How were they going to-

"Cato!" She exclaimed as she pulled away.

"What?"

Without saying another word, she scrambled around the Cornucopia, looking for something, with Cato watching her dubiously. What was she talking about? She returned to him with some rope. Seeing as they were quite close to it, Prim went about searching for a place to tie one end while knotting the other. She found a good place by the opening of the Cornucopia. She hauled one of the chairs over and used it as a stepladder to reach the place where she wanted to tie the rope.

"What are you doing?" Cato asked as he stood in front of her, eyes drifting to her bare abdomen thanks to the place she'd cut cloth earlier in the Games, before drifting back up to the peculiar looking knot she had tied. When she had stepped off of the chair, Cato had already understood what she had been doing.

A noose.

"If you don't want to kill me, and I don't really want to kill anyone, then why not kill ourselves?" She met his eyes, and he was mesmerized at the fire he saw in them.

This was his Rose.

And this was their future – or lack thereof.

This was the end.

He smiled at her; she smiled back. And for a moment, they just stood smiling at each other.


	35. Farewell and Affection

Chapter Thirty-Five – Farewell and Affection

* * *

They were smart enough to know that there was a chance one of them would still be proclaimed the Victor. After all, even if they jumped off at the same time, one of them would still die first by virtue of gravity working against (or was it  _for_?) them. Cato was not clueless to the fact that he was much heavier than she was, and would probably therefore die before she did.

He debated stabbing himself and getting it over with.

"Don't."

He looked up at her.

"You'd be no different than Peeta if you killed yourself now." There was no sense in trying to keep her tears from falling. And so she looked up at him, for only a few feet separated them now. "You'd sacrifice yourself, and for what?" She sniffled, and then used the back of her hand to wipe away what snot she could feel escaping her nose. "You'd die; I'd live — but what's the use in that because I wouldn't have a life to live without you."

"You have a sister," he found himself saying. It was odd. There was a disconnect between what he was thinking and what he was saying. In his mind, he agreed with her. This is what he had wanted from the very beginning was it not? He had wanted to possess her in every conceivable way.  _He still did_. "You have a sister, and a mother, and—"

"And  _you_ ," she countered, sadness and desperation giving way to anger. "I was going to save Peeta." She spat, taking a step towards him. "I had chosen him, Cato,  _not you_."

"Then why didn't you?" Anger was good. He knew how to deal with anger. He knew how to feel and use that. "You could have had  _your Peeta_. I couldn't have stopped you. I could be dead now and you'd be up here with  _him_."

Jealousy.

How is it that even in death, Peeta Mellark seemed to have one upped him?

" _HE'S NOT MINE_." Her inhale was scratchy in that way that a clogged nose sounded. "He  _never_  was." Her exhale was slow and her next words were nothing more than a whisper that Cato wouldn't have heard if he hadn't stepped closer. "Not in the way that would have mattered."

Not once had they broken eye contact.

Time hadn't stood still. This wasn't some fairytale where the prince and princess gazed into each other's eyes and magically solved everything with a kiss. They were in a battle for survival, waiting for each other's death — because they certainly weren't going to give it to each other.

Aware but uncaring of the passing time, they continued their stalemate.

Prim took the collar of her shirt and used it's inside to wipe her face. It was an unsightly action that normally would have disgusted the District 2-born-and-raised Cato, but really, who would have cared at that point?

"You have claimed over and over again that I'm yours," her voice was hoarse with dehydration and fatigue.

Was that his heartbeat he could hear echoing so loudly in his ears?

"But I think you ought to know that you're just as much mine as I am yours by now."

His answering kiss was packed with all the emotions he couldn't articulate. Yes, he understood. Yes, he agreed that he was hers as much as it was the other way around. Yes, he would die with (and for) her.

When they parted, tears fell freely down both their faces.

They stood in front of their own nooses, far enough that they couldn't hold each other's hands, but near enough to hear each other speak without having to raise their voice.

"You know, don't you?" Prim looked out into the forest. "You would die before I did if we jumped at the same time."

"I won't let you jump first."

"But you would also know when to jump so that we die at the same time."

Cato glared, "We're jumping  _together_. If you really want to die at the same time, then stab yourself when you see me stop struggling."

She didn't bother arguing with him, opting instead to hum a vaguely familiar tune. She wasn't sure from where she'd heard it —  _probably Katniss_ , her mind supplied — but she felt somewhat comforted that there was something of her past that tied into her present. It was just a bit morbid how it pertained to her death.

 _Are you, are you_  
Coming to the tree  
They strung up a man  
They say who murdered three

For a brief moment, she let her eyes flitter to Cato. So much of their life was going to disappear because of this barbaric game.

 _Strange things did happen here_  
No stranger would it be  
If we met at midnight  
In the hanging tree

Prim placed the loop around her neck just as Cato did the same.

 _Are you, are you_  
Coming to the tree  
Where dead man called out  
For his love to flee

"I love you."

 _Strange things did happen here_  
No stranger would it be  
If we met at midnight  
In the hanging tree

Neither were sure who had said it, but they both surely felt it. In the distance, they heard the echo of the song as some birds began to circle them.

 _Are you, are you_  
Coming to the tree  
Where I told you to run  
So we'd both be free

"3," Cato begun. Mockingjays were beginning to pick up the tune.

 _Strange things did happen here_  
No stranger would it be  
If we met at midnight  
In the hanging tree

Prim swallowed thickly, "2." The birds sang back the tune, offering background music of sorts.

 _Are you, are you_  
Coming to the tree  
Wear a necklace of hope  
Side by side with me  
Strange things did happen here  
No stranger would it be  
If we met at midnight  
In the hanging tree

"1."

They were about to jump when the trumpets sounded.

"Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games; Primrose Everdeen of District Twelve and Cato Hadwell of District Two!"

_She doesn't understand the effect she can have._


	36. The Silence

Chapter Thirty-Six – The Silence

* * *

"CATO!"

"PRIM!"

They don't know who yelled first, just that they both untangle themselves from their ropes and head for each other. He very clumsily crashed into her, as his injured leg gave way. They don't have a chance to speak as a hovercraft materializes overhead and two ladders drop.

"Will you be able to hold on?" Prim asked, acting as a crutch so that he could stand.

His smirk was a sight for sore eyes, she decided. It seemed so unfamiliar on his pale dirt-ridden face now. He hobbled to the ladder and rested his foot with the good leg on the first rung before opening his arm so that she could hop on to the other ladder as well. With a roll of her eyes, she mirrored his stance and they both get a shock of electric current that froze them in place.

Neither of them spoke.

The minute the door closed behind them, doctors were quick to move and take Cato away from her. He was placed on a silver table to be operated on, and she was directed by similarly-dressed people to another table to be checked.

She flinched as she and Cato are poked and prodded, but she never took her eyes off of him.

If he could, he wouldn't let her out of his sight either, but as it were, he was sedated and on a table surrounded by various doctors clad in sterile white uniforms, masks, and gloves. Had he not been lethargic due to the drugs they were quick to pump into his system, he was sure that he would be going stir crazy trying to get away from their clutches.

All they wanted was to stay by each other's side.

None of this mattered if they weren't together.

When she was cleared of any life-threatening injury —

_"You've strained your back and shoulders (trying to pull up someone nearly twice your size)"_

_"You're temperature keeps on fluctuating (because your body doesn't know how to properly regulate itself right now)"_

She had stopped listening, really, opting instead to sit within the vicinity of the operating table Cato was on. It barely registered in her mind that she was being dragged away from him until she saw her reflection when a glass door seal shut between them.

Prim screamed his name, the very real fear of being separated from him pulling her back into reality.

 _"CATO!"_  He heard her voice but he couldn't see. It was just darkness —

* * *

She could hear her voice break and falter until she lost it altogether. She could hear the thud of her hands beating against the glass door that made sure she couldn't interfere with Cato's treatment. Didn't they understand that she wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his recovery? She was a healer! She knew better to get in their way. She just wanted to be near him.

It was seeing her reflection that jarred her into silence.

Hollow cheeks, wild eyes, tangled hair. She was several shades darker than when she had first stepped into the arena. Fleetingly, she couldn't help but think this was the closest she could have ever looked to Katniss.

 _Katniss_.

She would see her sister soon enough. She was going home.

_District Twelve._

_Peeta._

_Rue._

_Peeta._

_Thresh._

_Peeta._

_Clove._

_Peeta._

_Glimmer._

_Peeta…_

Her fellow tributes flashed before her eyes in a never ending stream. She held on tight to the memories of what everyone had looked like —  _alive and well_.

To those around her, she was still as can be. Her eyes, a brilliant blue, shone with unshed tears for the fallen. Her hand remained pressed against the glass, but she made no move to scream nor bang any part of her body against the barrier. She looked very much

* * *

He awoke with a scream.

A band was around his waist to keep him from sitting up, and various tubes went from the wall to his arm to supply him with the necessary fluids for his recovery.

None of this registered clearly in his mind as his eyes darted to and fro, looking for the blonde and blue-eyed slip of a girl that he had been willing to die for. Where had she gone? Was she being cared for? They shouldn't have been separated! Didn't they see?  _They were never to be separated._

Just like with the previous times he had woken up however, he was all alone.

Cato felt the cold sensation of liquid being pumped into his veins, pulling him back to sleep.

* * *

She didn't know how long it had been, just that time had passed and that she had been in and out of consciousness. Physically, she felt a lot better than she ever had. Her hair was back to feeling like silk, her skin was back to being fair and smooth, and there were no aches that accompanied her movement.

At the foot of her bed were clothes that she supposed she had to put on, having spent her recovery period naked.

Prim visibly flinched upon seeing that the clothes were the same ones that tributes had been tasked to wear in the arena. Her hands trembled as she ran them over the garment. This meant she would see her team soon enough, and while that excited her, she was more concerned about where Cato was.

Was he doing alright? Will she be seeing him soon?

A door opened, having appeared from the wall seamlessly, just as she finished dressing. She left her hair down, walking towards the seemingly empty hallway. But that couldn't be, could it? Her room's door had appeared from what had looked to be a single wall, so there could be plenty of doors along the corridor, and one of them could be holding Cato!

Her lips opened to call out his name, but she was surprised by someone else calling out for her.

Effie, Haymitch, and Cinna!

They stood at a chamber at the end of the hall, and she didn't hesitate to run towards them. Propriety be damned, she had missed them. In their short time together, these people have come to be her family. She didn't even register having thrown herself, sobbing, into Haymitch's waiting arms until she heard him say, "You did great, Angel."

There was no mistaking Haymitch's sincerity, but Prim had a feeling that behind his words lied plenty of meaning.

Effie kept petting her hair and prattling on about who knew what, and Cinna simply pulled her into a long hug and said nothing. No words were needed.

It was when she was standing in front of Portia that Prim felt her knees buckle. In much the same fashion that she had hurled herself at Haymitch, Prim tackled Portia. The woman soothed her as she blubbered her apologies. Prim prattled on about how she should have saved Peeta, about how she had wanted to, and about how she had loved him.

She felt Portia slowly detach herself so she could look into Prim's eyes.

"There's nothing to apologize for, my sweet Angel." She ran her fingers through Prim's hair.

It was only when she was being led to a different area that it begun to sink in how all that commotion must have been caught on camera.

* * *

He didn't waste a second upon realizing that he was no longer — essentially — strapped to the bed. He dressed himself and headed for the newly-revealed door. He noted that directly across his room was another open room.

Cato went on to enter the room, calling out, "Prim?"

"Really, you emerge a Victor and she's who you look for!" Brutus laughed, pulling Cato in so that he could sling his arm around the shoulders of the newest District Two Victor.

" _Panem's Fire Angel_ ," mocked Enobaria from her spot seated beside Lyme.

"Where is she?" Cato crossed his arms, a frown on his face.

"She's with her team," chastised Brutus.

Enobaria rolled her eyes, "At the very least you could greet all of us." She waved a hand to gesture to everyone in the room, mainly to Lyme, Celia, and Achilee. Celia, his stylist, and Achilee, District Two's Escort, were every bit a representation of the Capitol in their colorful ensemble. They greet each other cordially. Everyone was at ease, reveling in yet another addition to their collection of District Two Victors, but no one spoke of District Twelve's own victor.

They dined, spoke of future plans (the sponsors banquet, his homecoming party) and of events passed (the team's watching of the games, the absolute uproar and scandal of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games). He was brought into a room with his stylists in an effort to get him ready for his reunion with his Rose —  _Prim_.

"Cinna and I have decided to make sure you and our  _Angel_  would match each other well…if you agree to it." Celia explained as she brought out choices for him to wear.


	37. The Revelation

Chapter Thirty-Seven – The Revelation

* * *

Cinna had stayed true to Prim's moniker as Panem's Fire Angel. The dress was every bit as soft and flattering to her angelic features as the previous ones had been. It was a pale yellow that would have been close to her hair color if it were a few shades darker. The top was halter and two strips of fabric went down her back and crossed in the middle, providing the only coverage for her skin there. The sheer fabric softly glowed, and every move from the air sent a shiver up her spine. From her neck till her waist, the dress fit snugly, then it fell to her knees in a type of fabric that had Prim thinking it looked like she was wearing a cloud. Various layers of the material added to the effect, and the dress transitioned from being pale yellow to candle white.

Prim looked at herself in the mirror. She looked every bit as ethereal as she had when they'd ridden that chariot in the first part of the Hunger Games, but even she could tell she was far from being the innocent girl she had once been. Her fingers reached up to touch her hair; it was half up in a braid from either side of her head that reminded her of the flower crowns she used to make as a child —  _or a halo_  — while the rest fell in soft curls.

"What do you think?" Cinna asked, tucking a curl behind her ear.

"I think you're amazing," replied Prim with a smile as she met Cinna's eyes through their reflection.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, "You're beautiful, my Angel." He then bent and whispered softly in her ear, "Never lose your fire."

As compared to her previous looks, Prim looked a lot closer to her age now. Leather flats encased her feet, and her fingernails were coated in clear polish while her face was made to look rounder than it actually was. The light blush they had applied complimented the rosy hue her cheeks easily took on whenever she was embarrassed, and Prim supposed that was what they were going for.

She hadn't seen Cato since they'd been on the hovercraft.

They would be reuniting not just in front of cameras, but a live audience and the ever exuberant Caesar Flickerman.

The thought of Cato had her reliving their last moments in the arena; thinking they were gonna die, admitting their feelings for each other, accepting their own death…

She hadn't even realized that she had switched locations until Haymitch had placed a hand on her and spoken, effectively startling her out of her stupor.

"Easy, just me. Let's have a look at you." He took one of her hands and raised it over her head, prompting her to spin. "Good." He let go of her hand, and Prim regarded him from beneath her lashes.

Prim could tell there was more to be said, and a sense of dread begun to fill her. Why did it feel as if she were still in the games? When Haymitch got on one knee, she didn't hesitate before throwing her arms around him in another embrace. His arms were quick to wrap around her and keep her in place, and he spoke quickly and quietly, lips concealed by her hair.

"No matter what happens, you have to trust me."

* * *

_"Cinna and I have decided to make sure you and our Angel would match each other well…if you agree to it." Celia explained as she brought out choices for him to wear._

Celia showed each ensemble of garments to him, though in general it was a choice of either gray or red. It was a tradition of sorts for District Two Victors to wear very loud and expressive colors for their Coronation. After all, it was a huge honor and achievement to win the Hunger Games. He met Celia's gaze, trying to see whether or not there was a correct answer. Why was he being given a choice? Was it not her job as the Stylist to make these decisions for him?

He had, in the end, chosen the gray suit that Celia claimed would complement Prim's dress. There was a message being said in that moment, he could feel it. In his choosing to match her, he was presenting a united front not just to the audience, but to their teams as well.

A grey coat, a black shirt underneath, matching grey trousers, with black socks and shoes finished his rather simple outfit. His hair was left alone for the most part, and he looked every bit the teenager he actually was, when he finally had a look at his reflection.

"Cato," Celia met his gaze when he turned to her. She stepped up to him and smoothed down his suit lapels. "I'm glad you're alive." She pat his breast pocket affectionately, making him frown. Since when had they had a relationship that warranted that reaction?

He didn't say anything in return, at a loss for words.

As Celia turned to leave, Lyme entered the room.

And in the entirety of their acquaintance, that was the first time he saw Lyme as anything other than  _that other Victor from District Two_. He'd always thought her intelligent, yes — she was the reason most of the team had been on board with recruiting Prim after all — but she was also almost always overshadowed by the louder Victors. Her shoes clicked evenly against the floor as she strutted towards him. There was an ease and efficiency with the way she moved, as if every move had been thought out and planned ahead.

"You are remarkably lucky." She smoothed her hands down the front of his suit jacket, which looked odd considering how she was as muscular as, if not even more muscular considering his very recent win, he was. She reached into her pocket and placed a yellow pocket square into his breast pocket.

They stood like that for a moment, Lyme seemingly lost in her own thoughts as she stared at the newly placed piece of fabric.

Cato was just about to speak when she beat him to it.

"Your  _Rose_ is every bit the healer I'd thought she'd be." The  _'and more,'_  hung in the air between them. He heard the way she emphasized Prim's name, and realized that he would perhaps need to take up calling her that once again.

* * *

As he stood in the small dark room he had been asked to wait in, Cato couldn't help but think of Clove. She could've lived. He had nothing in his own District to live for, but she did. Her family wasn't like his.

Then again, would Clove have made the same call as Prim had in their final moments?

If it had been Cato Hadwell against Clove Kentley in the end, they would have battled to the death, wouldn't they?

It was these thoughts that were running through his mind when he heard someone enter the room.

Cato thought that the first time he would meet Haymitch Abernathy, the man would smell strongly of alcohol. He wasn't entirely wrong. There was a faint scent of whiskey surrounding the man, but he was neither drunk nor did reek from his mouth.

"Now that's just too much." Without waiting for Cato to respond, Haymitch pulled out the pocket square Lyme had placed earlier. He took out his own white one and replaced Cato's. It was as he was tucking in the fabric that he pulled the young man closer roughly.

Immediately on the defensive, Cato glared at the man before him, on hand holding Haymitch's wrist. A quick twitch of Haymitch's lips betrayed his amusement in the situation though, which served to confuse Cato even more.

"Relax," said Haymitch with a laugh. "I'm not a fan of the way you've been treating Prim but I accept that you're the person she  _loves_ , so I propose a truce." He twisted his hand to get out of Cato's hold, and pulled the confused Victor into a hug.

"Is she okay?" The words tumbled out of Cato's mouth before he could even think about it. There was a minute change in the way Haymitch's hold loosened on him, and he supposed he wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been in such close proximity to the man.

"Listen up. You're in trouble. Word is the Capitol's furious about you showing them up in the arena. The one thing they can't stand is being laughed at and they're the joke of Panem," Haymitch was quick to speak in a whisper. Without the aid of Prim's hair to hide the movement of his lips, he used his actions as a distraction. He took his hand out of Cato's pocket and fixed his suit.

Cato understood that there was a need for secrecy and illusion in their quick exchange, and even though he could feel his anxiety rise with the revelation, he forced out a dry laugh as if he were mocking Haymitch's supposed threat. "Think you can keep me away, old man?"

"You're desperately in love with her." Haymitch stood back so that they stood at a more understandable distance. "I respect that but I don't like it."

The door opened to reveal Lyme and Brutus.

"Well aren't you a sight for sober eyes, Haymitch?" Brutus' loud baritone caught both men's attention with ease. He stayed by the door as Lyme entered.

Cato watched as Lyme and Haymitch met halfway, and he was unsurprised to find the pale yellow square of fabric that had once been his pocket square was now in Haymitch's own suit. The two passed each other with only a nod of acknowledgement being exchanged, and Cato saw the door close as Lyme reached him and the two other males left.

"Wouldn't it be fitting to give your Rose a rose?"

A single stemmed white rose was in Lyme's hand.

In spite of all the thoughts racing in his head, Cato took it without a word. He wasn't stupid enough to misunderstand. Everyone was selling their love story. The Capitol was watching them even closer than they had the other Victors because they'd been outsmarted.

Lyme exited without another word, leaving Cato standing alone, the white accent of his pocket square and the white rose making him look like heated charcoal.


	38. The Reunion

Chapter Thirty-Eight – The Reunion

* * *

As Prim emerged from beneath the stage, she raised a hand to wave at the crowd. Seeing as she had been placed on the far left of the stage, she looked to her right and saw Cato just having done the same. And all her worry for his well-being melted away, as a slightly delirious giggle left her mouth and she ran for the person she had almost died with.

Cato had played the cocky Victor to the crowd upon emerging, but when he looked around and saw her on the other side, he knew Haymitch's warning was almost unnecessary. He would remember it, yes, but he didn't need to act as if he cared for Primrose Everdeen. Evidently, he already did — maybe even always had.

Absentmindedly, he fiddled with the stem of the rose.

He caught her when she launched herself into his arms, stumbling lightly to keep their balance. Cato pulled her flush against him, lifting her up to the point that she could wrap her arms around his neck and bury her face there. He closed his eyes as he inhaled her scent and let his cheek rub against the side of her head. They barely realized the audience's reaction, so absorbed in their reunion.

When they slowly began to pull away, they kept their eyes on each other. For a moment, they were back in the arena, deciding whether to live or die. He didn't let her pull away completely as he swooped in to kiss her.

The kiss caught her off guard, but it was definitely different from most of the ones they've shared. Soft and sweet, Cato cupped her cheek with one hand while the hand holding the rose slowly let her back on her feet. They parted as she regained her footing, and both were smiling even more than they already had.

He offered her the white rose, "A rose for  _my_  Rose."

Shouts and cheers due to their kiss gave way to  _'Ooh's_ and  _'Aww's_  from the audience. And then it isn't Cato pulling her in for a kiss, but the other way around. She took hold of the lapels of his suit jacket and tugged so that she could press her lips to his. The kiss was short and sweet, with the crowd going wild because their  _Angel_  initiated it.

This time, when they drew apart, it was with Caesar Flickerman encouraging them to join him in the center of the stage. Where an ornate chair usually stood beside Caesar during this ceremony was a loveseat.

As they situated themselves, Cato met Haymitch's hard gaze, and he knew he had to do something. Their earlier display may have been enough to appease the masses about their reunion, but this event needed to be nothing less than absolute perfection.

He placed an arm on the edge of the loveseat so that his arm was around Prim. A quick glance at Haymitch and Cato saw the District Twelve Victor shake his head, and Cato finally understood why Haymitch had gone and warned him. He didn't know whether Prim had been warned as well, but Haymitch knew Cato wouldn't hesitate to be assertive in his relationship with Prim. He needed to get everyone to believe that they were madly in love or that he at least was crazy enough to do anything that Primrose Everdeen demanded of him; his and Prim's lives depended on it.

Cato adjusted their position so that he was seated fully on the loveseat with his legs somewhat outstretched and Prim was on his lap. She nearly had her whole back to the audience, but Cato knew that the blush that just rose on her cheeks at the action and the way she had jokingly hit him with the rose in her hand was caught on camera. They looked the epitome of  _foolish_ young love.

Caesar Flickerman made more jokes, then it was time for the show. It was going to last three hours, and now that Prim and Cato had lived through it, they were both amazed at how several weeks were condensed in three hours.

They both looked up, realizing that they were going to see people that they knew (and cared about) die before them. Cato supposed it was understandable that the highlights would spend a disproportionate amount of time on them, but it was odd to see nonetheless.

The first half hour or so focused on the pre-arena events: the reaping; the chariot ride through the Capitol; the training scores; and the interviews. Once they were in the arena, there's a detailed coverage of the bloodbath, and then alternated between shots of tributes dying and shots of them.

Cato saw the way he and Prim when they had been a part of the alliance. He watched as he was portrayed to be a jealous lover when he kept mentioning Peeta and taunting Clove. He watched how Prim almost died at Pan's hands. Prim took to hiding her face by his neck whenever a death was shown. He couldn't believe it. It was surreal to see all that had happened cut into such a show that made it seem as if it were someone else entirely in that sequence.

Prim and Peeta's reunion had Cato tightening his hold on Prim. He placed a kiss on her shoulder and then rested his chin there as they continued to watch. He watched Prim provide for her little group, hunting and healing when needed. They watched as Cato slept, with Clove standing guard. How she had come near him upon hearing him speak. How Clove had heard him whisper  _"Rose"_  during the time that he had been separated from them. The small gasp from Prim wasn't lost on anyone. Neither of them had known about that.

They saw as Clove died, and Prim's tears fell as she turned to Cato, who looked stone faced. She pressed a kiss to his mouth, wanting to distract him from the pain that surely resurfaced from seeing his best friend's death. Prim getting stung by Tracker Jackers was also something new for them to see. Carried by Thresh, she had alternated saying Cato's and Katniss' names. Even when she wasn't entirely there, she had had him in her mind.

Thresh's death had Prim burrowing into Cato's embrace once more.

Their reunion was aired with dramatic music and Cato's reassurance after Prim had killed Glimmer echoed in her ears. All their kisses had been shown, and the passionate way in which Cato made Prim stay with him looked more romantic than manic with the way they had shown it. Then it was Peeta and Rue traveling to the Cornucopia and Cato promising to kill them so that he and Prim would be the Victors.

Rue's death and the mayhem that followed it made for an interesting build up to the climax. They showed how her body had been moved to rest in a more serene place, but they mostly showed how Cato looked at Prim the entire time. It was as if every move he made was reliant on her.

The events that followed prompted no tears from either Victor. Instead, Prim watched the entire thing in a nearly catatonic state. They saw how Cato was willing to sacrifice so that Peeta still had a chance with Prim. They saw how Prim very nearly saved Peeta, but ultimately saved Cato instead. Their argument about being killed or killing was aired word for word, along with their decision and their almost death. What surprised Prim was that neither of them had actually said "I love you." She had been so sure someone had said it in their final moments.

What really sold their love story, Cato supposed, was the way they had screamed each other's names and then ran for each other. They hadn't kissed, but he had fallen very much into Prim's arms thanks to his injury, and even when he was probably pulling her completely down, she made sure to keep him up. They looked as if no one else had mattered — and he supposed in that moment, no one else had.

The anthem began to play and everyone rose as President Snow took the stage followed by a little girl carrying a cushion that held a crown. Everyone was confused for a moment until President Snow took the crown and twisted it, splitting it into two. They are crowned and Cato couldn't help but feel that President Snow's eyes did not match his perfect smile. If looks alone could harm a person, there was no mistake that Primrose Everdeen would no longer be standing before him.

There are a lot of waving and smiling especially as the ceremony ended and they were escorted to the Victory Banquet, where sponsors and Capitol Officials alike swarmed them and elbowed each other for the chance to get their pictures taken with the newest Victors. Cato was sure he would have snapped if it weren't for the fingers intertwined with his. They would occasionally look to each other, sharing a small reassuring smile before returning to whatever they had been in the middle of. They occasionally caught a glimpse of members of their teams, but they never seem to be able to speak to them as someone is always bent on getting another's attention.

By the time they were returning to the Training Center, Prim had fallen asleep cradled in Cato's arms in the car. Cato didn't know how anyone did it, but he and Prim were given permission to share a room in her floor — probably because they've already done so. He was grateful she woke up just as they arrived on her floor, so she could change into her sleeping attire. He didn't miss the way Haymitch kept an eye on him as he entered Prim's room.

It was as they were cuddled in bed that Cato finally felt a bit of the tension he had been feeling the whole day leave him. With her head on his chest and an arm around his waist, neither of them had felt as at ease as they had in weeks.

"Primrose." He debated telling her. He assumed she knew nothing, but perhaps Haymitch had said something already? Decision made, Cato moved so that he was pinning her to the bed. He leaned in so that his lips were by her ear. She stiffened, reminded of a different time, but close her eyes as he spoke. "Close your eyes and pretend I'm telling you something funny." She lets out a small laugh, and he went on to repeat what Haymitch had said to him before the coronation. "Now laugh loudly and push me off."

"Cato, n-no!" Prim pushed him away, a lot harder than either of them had expected. It was understandable though, with all the tension in her body.

Cato's leered at her and went on to very literally pounce on her and then hide their bodies under the covers. It was better safe than sorry, because Cato knew the chances of them being watched were high. They situated themselves so that they were on their sides and virtually no space separated them.

"What do we do now?"

"We do what we can. We show them we're very much in love."

"Okay, we can do that."

And that was how they fell asleep.

* * *

The following day meant the final interview. They woke up after about three hours of sleep, feeling restless. It was then that they discovered the door to Prim's room had been locked from the outside, causing them to feel a sense of dread. Cato was suddenly grateful for the precautions that he had taken before they had fallen asleep.

When Effie finally arrived to shoo Cato out and ensure that everyone was ready for their interview in a couple of hours, the pair were more than happy to be in the company of others. Cato returned to his floor, surprised to find that there was now a Peacekeeper stationed inside the elevator.

Prim is silent for most of the morning. She made idle chit-chat, but for the most part was content to once again be the doll to Cinna's wonderful creations. This time she wore a gauzy white dress that was perhaps the simplest of Cinna's looks that she had ever worn. He made sure she looked every bit as angelic as she had always been made to seem, and Prim bit her tongue despite wanting to ask if Cinna knew anything of the position they were in. The feeling of being watch had never left her since her reunion with her team, and had only increased ten fold with what Cato had revealed.

By the time they were reunited, it was with Caesar Flickerman.

No audience were present, with only a handful of cameras with them on stage, which was done up beautifully in an assortment of red, pink, and white roses. Their teams were behind the cameras, with Haymitch on one side of the stage while Enobaria and Brutus on the other. Lyme was farther away, doing who knew what. All that really mattered to Cato was that they got through this

The interview itself was easy enough. Caesar assured Prim that she would do as wonderfully as she had in their first interview, and when they were called to take their places, they asked if they could sit the same way as yesterday. Caesar had agreed, thinking that it was rather sweet.

In the usual way that Caesar Flickerman handled an interview, he was wonderful. He teased, he joked, and he choked up at the right moments. Prim, in spite of her nerves, handled the interview well. She was sweet and joked with the interviewer, while Cato easily matched her word for word.

Eventually, Caesar began to pose more intrusive questions. "So Cato, the first time we spoke, you had told me that you wouldn't have hesitated to kill Prim given the chance. When did that change?"

They both froze at that, but Cato let out a laugh that mellowed out into a soft smile as he turned to Prim.

"I lied." He turned to Caesar and shrugged. "More like I was lying to myself really. A friend of mine told me that when I found the right person for me, things would be  _different_ , and I wasn't ready to accept that. I didn't know what to do with myself, knowing that I cared about my Rose, but also that I couldn't have her — not in the way that mattered."

"And in what way would that have been?"

Cato looked up at her then, chin on her shoulder, "I'd want to spend the rest of my life with her. I would always be grateful the games gave me the opportunity to meet the one person I knew was perfect for me."

Caesar was relentless even after he dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief, having been so touched, "So how did you feel when the rules were changed; when you knew that both of you could win?"

"It changed everything…because for the first time, it felt like…I could keep her." He had looked away by then, his fair complexion giving way to the pink blush that covered his cheeks. Prim placed a kiss to his temple, because it was more convenient due to their position, and Cato chanced a look at Haymitch, who looked pleased with his reply.

It wasn't over though, as Caesar set his sights on Prim. "And what about you, Prim? You've been caught in this love triangle from the very beginning. What made you choose Cato?"

Her hand, the one that had been soothingly rubbing his nape, stilled momentarily before continuing once more. She looked down and met Caesar's gaze from beneath her lashes, looking every bit as bashful as she suddenly felt. She raised her other hand to rest on his chest, feeling his heartbeat against her palm.

"I guess it was the way he always chose me." She finally looked at him, a smile on her face. "All he'd ever really asked of me was to never leave his side, and I'm very grateful that he had never tried to change me." Without even asking, she continued, "But I knew I loved him when he went back for Peeta. He knew that there was a chance I could've left him for dead, but he risked that for my happiness, and really, what more can I ask?"

The interview continued with the easy rapport the trio had, and it wasn't until they brought up the end that the pair began to truly feel anxious once more.

"Prim was standing there, offering to die." Caesar began, and Cato tried his best not to relive that moment. "Had things changed so much that you were willing to die for her?"

"I love her," He couldn't look at Prim as he spoke. "Maybe it looked like everything has changed, but really, I'm just more honest to myself. I love her and I know that a life without her would be meaningless."

"And you, Prim?"

Prim used a hand to turn Cato's head to her. She looked into his hazel eyes and said softly, "How can I go on without you?" Tears fell from her eyes.

There was no dry eye in the room by the time the interview finished.

Everything after that was a blur. Prim and Cato were placed into different trains with the arrangement of having them spend time with each other before the Victory Tour.

* * *

**END OF ACT ONE**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that wraps up the first arc!
> 
> Couple of things I'd like to address:
> 
> 1\. I changed the title to better emulate the entirety of the three arcs. So from "Possession and Obsession" which was only really meant to describe the Prato version of The Hunger Games, I've changed it to "Roses and Revolutions" which I feel better depicts what I feel I'm going for when it comes to basically re-writing the entire trilogy.
> 
> 2\. I'll be going through the previous chapters and editing them and posting those edits over the weekend, just so everything's up to 'standard'. I'll be taking a week or two off to plot out the next Act properly and hopefully get a couple chapters ahead, and then we'll be all set.
> 
> 3\. This is also out on AO3, so if you wanna look at it there (cause I actually prefer the interface there, tbh), feel free to do so.
> 
> Man, it feels good to finally have this out. Thanks for reading this far!
> 
> Much love,
> 
> MJ

**Author's Note:**

> So this is also on FF.net with the title "Possession and Obsession" (though I'll get around to changing that title there soon). I went on a pretty long hiatus between starting this and updating it, and have decided to post it here as I go back and edit the chapters.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!


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